Delilah of the snows

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DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

DELILAH of
15he SNOWS

By] HAKOLD BINDLOSS

Author of ** Alton of Somasco," " The Cattle-Baron's
Daughter," " The Dust of Conflict," " Winston of the
Prairie," "For Jacinta," " The Young Traders," etc.

ec£

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1907, by
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

All right 8 reserved
May, 1908

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I Ingleby Feels the Bit 1

II Ingleby Stands by His Opinions 11

III Oonfijcting Claims 21

IV Leger's Responsibility 34

V The New Country 44

VI Hall Sewbll 55

VII Hetty Bears the Cost 64

VIII On the Trail 74

IX Hetty Finds a Way 84

X Unrest 95

XI Ingleby Ventures a Remonstrance 107

XII The Major's Bear 117

XIII Esmond Acquires Information 129

XIV The Necessary Incentive 139

XV Ingleby Strikes it Rich 147

XVI An Invalid Record 157

XVII Trooper Probyn's Misadventure 167

XVIII Ingleby Goes Away 177

XIX Trooper Probyn Comes Back 189

XX Accessories 199

XXI A Doubtful Exchange 210

v

1523777

vi CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAOB

XXII Alison's Sault 220

XXIII Ingleby Loses His Head 231

XXIV The Unexpected Happens 241

XXV Tomlinson Gets Away t 251

XXVI The Obvious Thing 261

XXVII The Blockade 273

XXVIII Snowed In 283

XXIX Esmond's Hands are Tied 295

XXX Sewell's Downfall 305

XXXI Broken Idols 316

XXXII His Appointed Station 328

DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Delilah of the Snows

ItfGLEBY FEELS THE BIT

HP HE tennis match was over, and Walter Ingleby stood
swinging his racket impatiently beside an opening in
the hazel hedge that overhung the lane. Wisps of hay were
strewn about it, but already the nut bushes were sprinkled
with the honeysuckle's flowers. Beyond the hedge, corn-
fields blotched with poppies, and cropped meadows, faded
into the cold blueness of the east.

Ingleby looked out upon the prospect with a slight hard-
ening of his face, for he loved the quiet, green country in
which there was apparently no room for him; but a little
thrill of expectancy ran through him as he glanced back
across the stile towards the little white village he had left
a few minutes earlier. A broad meadow shining with the
tender green of the aftermath divided it from the lane, and
light laughter and a murmur of voices came faintly across
the grass. Again a trace of grimness, which seemed out
of place there, crept into his face, and it was with a little
resolute movement of his shoulders that he turned and
raised his eyes to the dim blue ridge behind which burned
the sunset's smoky red. He vaguely felt that it was porten-
tous and emblematical, for that evening the brightness of
the West seemed to beckon him.

% DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He had graciously been permitted to play for a somewhat
exclusive club during the afternoon, as well as to make him-
self useful handing round tea and carrying chairs, because
he played tennis well, and the president's wife bad said
that while there was a risk in admitting that kind of peo-
ple, young Ingleby evidently knew his place, and was seldom
guilty of presumption. This was true, for Ingleby was
shrewd enough to realize that there were limits to tbe
toleration extended him, though the worthy lady would
probably have been astonished had she known what his self-
repression occasionally cost him. That a young man of his
position should not esteem it a privilege to teach beginners
and submit to be snubbed by any one of importance who
happened to be out of temper had never occurred to her.
Still, he certainly knew his place, and having played well,
to please himself and his partner, had slipped away when
the last game was over, since he understood that the compli-
ments were not for him.

Suddenly his heart beat- a trifle faster as a figure ap-
peared in the meadow. It was a girl of about his own age,
which did not greatly exceed twenty, who carried herself
well, and moved, it seemed to him, with a gracefulness he
had never noticed in any other woman. She wore a white
hat with red poppies on it, and he noticed that the flowers
he had diffidently offered her were still tucked in the belt
of the light grey dress. She was walking slowly, and ap-
parently did not see him in the shadow, so that when she
stopped a moment with her hand upon the stile he could,
although he felt the presumption of it, look at her steadily.

There were excuses for him, since any one with artistic
perceptions would have admitted that Grace Coulthurst
made a sufficiently attractive picture as she stood with the
white clover at her feet and the glow of the West upon her
face. It was warm in colouring and almost too cleanly cut,
but essentially English, with a suggestion of pride and
vigour in it. The eyes were grey, and, perhaps, a trifle too

INGLEBY FEELS THE BIT 3

grave and imperious considering her age; the clustering
hair beneath the white hat shone in the sunset a gleaming
bronze. She was also very dainty, though that did not
detract from the indefinite something in the pose of the
shapely head and figure which the lad vaguely recognized
as patrician. The term did not please him. Indeed, it
was one he objected to, but he could think of nothing more
appropriate, and as he watched her he became almost aston-
ished at his temerity. Ingleby was young, and fancied he
knew his own value, but he was also acquainted with the
unyielding nature of social distinction, and it was wholly
respectful homage he paid Grace Coulthurst. She was
Major Coulthursf s daughter, and a young woman of some
local importance. When she saw Ingleby a faint tinge of
warmer colour crept into her face for just a moment.

He swung off his straw hat, and held it at his knee as he
raised a hand to her, and though his deference was, per-
haps, a trifle overdone, it was redeemed by its genuineness,
and did not displease her.

"I was afraid you would never come," he said.

The girl descended the stile before she looked at him,
and then there was a suggestion of stiffness in her attitude,
for the speech, which seemed to imply something of the
nature of an appointment, was not a tactful one.

"Why did you think I would come this way at all?" she
said.

"I don't know," said Ingleby, with a trace of confusion.
"Of course, there wasn't any reason. Still, I hoped you
would. That was why I waited."

Grace Coulthurst said nothing for a moment. It was,
though she would never have admitted it, not altogether
by accident that she had met and walked home with him
somewhat frequently during the past month.

" As it happened, I was almost going round by the road,
with Lilian Fownes," she said.

Young Ingleby, as she did not fail to notice, set his lips,

4> DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

for Miss Fownes had on that and other occasions been ac-
companied by her accomplished brother, who was an adept
at graceful inanities.

"Then I should not have seen you — and I especially
wanted to," he said.

His voice had a little uncertain note in it, and Grace
glanced at him sharply. "In that ease, why did you run
away as soon as the game was over?"

"Don't you know?" and Ingleby's laugh had a trace of
bitterness in it. "When it is over they don't want me. Of
course, we helped them to win, but that was what I was
there for — that, and nothing more — while you played splen-
didly. You see, one depends so much upon his partner."

"Does he?"

"Of course !" and Ingleby lost his head. "Now — I don't
mean at tennis only — I could do almost anything with you
to encourage me. Still, that is evidently out of the ques-
tion— like the rest."

He concluded somewhat incoherently, for he realized that
this was going too far, and in his embarrassment naturally
made matters worse by the attempted qualification. Still,
though the girl's colour was a trifle higher, she was not
altogether displeased, and felt that there was, perhaps, some
excuse for his confidence as she glanced at him covertly.
Walter Ingleby was not remarkably different from most
other young Englishmen, but he had a sturdy, well set-up
figure, and an expressive and by no means unattractive
face, with broad forehead, fearless blue eyes, and a certain
suggestive firmness of his mouth. He had also a trick of
looking at one steadily with his head held well erect, and
then speaking with a curious clipped curtness. It was a
trifling mannerism which nevertheless carried with it a
suggestion of vigour and straightforwardness. Just then
there was a little scintillation in his eyes, and he looked
like one who had at least the courage to attempt a good
deal.

INGLEBY FEELS THE BIT 5

"Well," she said, in a non-committal fashion, "we cer-
tainly won the match, and I think you were wrong to slip
away. One would almost fancy that you are unduly sen-
sitive now and then."

Ingleby laughed. "Perhaps I am, but it isn't so very
astonishing that I should occasionally resent a slight that
isn't meant when there are so many of them that certainly
are. No doubt, it's my own fault. I should have known
what to expect when I crept into the exclusive tennis club
at Holtcar."

"Then I wonder why you joined it at all."

"So do I at times. Still, I wanted to see what people
of position and refinement were really like, and to learn
anything they might be inclined to teach me. I was am-
bitious, you see — and besides, I was really fond of the
game."

"And you were disappointed when you met them?"

Ingleby made a little expressive gesture. "Chiefly in
myself. I thought I was strong enough not to mind being
treated as a professional and politely ignored except when
I was useful. Then I imagined it would be excellent dis-
cipline, and discipline is presumably good for one, as the
worthy vicar, who really appears to have ideas, is fond of
observing."

Again the girl glanced at him sharply, with a faint but
perceptible arching of her brows.

"Isn't that a trifle patronizing?" she said. "You can't
be very much older than I am, and he has, at least, seen a
good deal of the world."

Ingleby laughed frankly, though there was a little flush
in his face. " I know I very often talk like a fool — and the
difference between you and the others is that you very sel-
dom think it necessary to remind me of it. That is, of
course, one difference. The rest "

"I think," said the girl, severely, "we were talking about
the vicar."

6 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Well," said Ingleby, "I really believe he means well,
but he is, after all, part of the system, and naturally in-
terested in maintaining the existing state of things. We
have in England a few great bolstered-up professions, one
could almost call them professional rings, and the men
fortunate enough to enter them are more or less compelled
to play into one another's hands. The millions who don't
belong to them are, of course, outsiders, and couldn't be
expected to count, you see."

The girl stiffened perceptibly, and really looked very
patrician as she turned and regarded him indignantly.

"You appear to forget that my father belongs to one of
those professions," she said.

"He did," corrected Ingleby, and then stopped abruptly,
as he remembered it was reputed that it was not exactly by
his own wish Major Coulthurst no longer actively served
his nation.

"I wonder if you have deliberately made up your mind
to offend me?" asked Grace Coulthurst with icy quietness.

"You know I would cut my hand off sooner than do any-
thing I thought would vex you," Ingleby answered. "I'm
afraid I talk too much, but I can't help it now and then.
There are, you see, so few people who will listen to me
seriously. Unless you are content to adopt the accepted
point of view, everybody seems to think it his duty to put
his foot on you."

Grace's anger was usually short-lived, for she had a
generous nature as well as a sense of humour, and the lad's
naive admission appealed to the latter.

"Well," she said, with a little gleam in her eyes, "I
really think I, at least, have listened to you with patience ;
but your views are likely to lead you into trouble. Where
did you get them ?"

Ingleby laughed. "To tell the truth, I often wonder
myself. In any case, it wasn't from my father. He was
a staunch and consistent churchman, and kept a little book

INGLEBY FEELS THE BIT 7

shop. You can see it in the High Street now. He sold
books — and papers behind the counter; I would like you
to remember this. Still, as I said, he was consistent, and
there was literature he would not handle, nor when they
made him a councillor would he wink at certain municipal
jobbery. The latter fact was duly remembered when his
lease fell in, as well as on other occasions, and when he
died, when I was fourteen, there was nothing left for me.
He was a scholar, and an upright man — as well as a Tory
of the old school and a high churchman."

"Is it very unusual for a scholar to be either of the latter
then?"

"Well," said Ingleby, with a little twinkle in his eyes,
"one would almost fancy that it ought to be. However, you
can't be in the least interested in these fancies of mine.
Shall I gather you that spray of blossom ?"

Grace looked curiously at him instead of at the pale-
tinted honeysuckle whose sweetness hung about them. She
was quite aware that he had somewhat eccentric views, and
it was perhaps his originality which- had attracted her when,
prompted chiefly by pity for the lad who was usually left
out in the cold, she had made his acquaintance; but her
interest in him had increased with suspicious rapidity con-
sidering that it was only a month or two since she had
delicately made the first overtures. She was quite willing
to admit that she had made them, for she had understood,
and under the circumstances sympathized with, the lad's
original irresponsiveness, which had vanished when he saw
that her graciousness sprang from a kindly nature and was
unspoiled by condescension; and Grace Coulthurst could
afford to do what other young women of her age at Holtcar
would have shrunk from. She had also a certain quiet
imperiousness which made whatever she did appear fitting.

"I am afraid you are an inveterate radical," she said.

"I scarcely think that goes quite far enough, as radical-
ism seems to be understood by its acknowledged leaders.

8 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Blatant is the adjective usually hurled at us; and no doubt
I deserve it, as witness what you have endured to-night.
Still, you 'see, I wasn't talking quite without a purpose, be-
cause I want you to understand my attitude — and that
brings me to the point. I'm afraid I can't play with you at
the tournament, as was arranged."

"No?" said Grace, a trifle sharply, for she was very
human, and after somewhat daringly showing favour to
the man of low degree it was a trifle galling to discover that
he failed to appreciate it. "You have, presumably, some-
thing that pleases you better to do that day ?"

Ingleby turned partly away from her, and glanced across
the valley. "No," he said with unusual quietness, "I think
you know that could not be. I am, in fact, going away."

Grace was a trifle startled, as well as more concerned
than she would have admitted, and had Ingleby been look-
ing at her he might have seen this. It had not been exactly
pleasant to hear that he was an advanced democrat, for,
while by no means unduly conventional, she had an inborn
respect for established customs and procedure, and she felt
that the existing condition of affairs, while probably not
beyond improvement, might be made considerably worse,
at least, so far as she and her friends were concerned. Still,
it was disconcerting to find that he was going away, for
there would then be no opportunity for teaching him — in-
directly, of course — the erroneous nature of his views.
This, at least, was the reason she offered herself.

"Where are you going?" she asked, with studied in-
difference.

Ingleby swung around, with head tilted a trifle backwards
— she knew that unconscious pose and the little gleam in
his eyes which usually accompanied it — and looked across
the cool blue-green meadows towards the fading splendours
of the West.

"Out there where men are equal, as they were made to
be, and the new lands are too wide for the cramped opinions

INGLEBY FEELS THE BIT 9

and prejudices that crush one here !" Then he turned to
the girl with a little laugh. "I wish you would say some-
thing quietly stinging. I deserve it for going off in that
way again. Still, I really felt it."

"Do you think I could?" and Grace's tone was severe.

Inglehy was even more contrite than she expected. "It
was absurd to suggest it. You could never say an unkind
or cutting thing to anybody. In fact, your kindness is the
one pleasant memory I shall carry away with me. I —
3'ou see "

He pulled himself up abruptly, but the colour was in his
cheeks, and the little thrill in his voice again, while it
seemed only natural that the girl should smile prettily.

"I wonder," she said, "if one might ask you why you are
going ?"

The lane was growing dusky now, and Grace, as it hap-
pened, held a white glove and a fold of the silvery grey
skirt in an uncovered hand, for the dew was settling heavily
upon the grass between the wheel ruts. Ingleby did not
look at her.

"I don't think I could make you understand how sordid
and distasteful my life here is — and it can't be changed,"
he said. "Every door is closed against the man with neither
friends nor money. He must be taught his place, and stay
in it, dragging out his life in hopeless drudgery, while
I "

He stopped again, and then looked his companion stead-
ily in the face. "I have found out in the last month how
much life has to offer one who has the courage to make a
bold bid for what he is entitled to."

"And you expect to make it out there — which presumably
means America or Canada?"

They had reached an oaken door in a mossy wall, and
Ingleby stood still. "Yes," he said, slowly, "I intend to
make it there. Life holds so much — I did not know how
much a little while ago — and there are alluring possi-

10 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

bilities if one has the courage to break away from the
groove prejudice and tradition force him into here. I may
never see you again — unless I am successful I think I never
shall. Would it be a very great presumption if I asked you
for something, a trifle, to carry away with me?"

He stood looking down upon her with a curious wistful-
ness in his face, and Grace afterwards tried to believe that
it was by accident she dropped her glove just then. In any
case, next moment young Ingleby stooped, and when he
straightened himself again he not only held the glove exult-
antly fast, but the hand she had stretched out for it. Then
a patch of vivid crimson showed in Grace Coulthurst's
cheek as they stood face to face in the summer twilight —
the lad of low degree, with tingling nerves and throbbing
heart, and the girl of station rudely shaken out of her ac-
customed serenity. In those few moments they left their
youth behind, and crossed the mystic threshold into the
ampler life of man and woman.

Then Ingleby, swinging off his straw hat, let the little
hand go, and looked at the girl steadily.

"If that was wrong you will have a long while in which
to forgive me," he said. "If I live and prosper out there
I will bring you back the glove again — and, whatever hap-
pens, you cannot prevent my carrying your memory away
with me."

Then he turned away, looked back, still bareheaded, and
with a little resolute shake of his shoulders swung away
down the darkening lane, while Grace inserted a key in the
oaken door with somewhat unsteady fingers. She was as
yet neither pleased nor angry, but bewildered, and only
certain that he had gone, and her face was burning still.

II

INGLEBY STANDS BY HIS OPINIONS

T T was late on Saturday night, and unpleasantly hot in
the little dingy room where Ingleby sat with a com-
panion beneath the slates of a tall, four-story house in a
busy cloth-making town. There were several large holes
in the threadbare carpet, and a portion of the horsehair
stuffing protruded from the dilapidated sofa, while the rick-
ety chairs and discoloured cloth on the table were equally
suggestive of severe economy. A very plain bookcase hung
on the wall, and the condition of the historical works and
treatises on political economy it contained seemed to indi-
cate that they had been purchased secondhand; while an
oil lamp burned dimly on the mantel, for the room was
almost intolerably stuffy already, and the gas supplied at
Hoddam was bad and dear. A confused murmur of voices
came up from the narrow street below, with the clatter of
heavy shoes and the clamour of the cheap-Jacks in the
neighbouring market square.

Ingleby, who had taken off his jacket, lay in a decrepit
arm-chair holding a slip of paper in his hand. Opposite
him sat another young man with the perspiration beaded on
his face, which was sallow and somewhat hollow. He was
watching Ingleby with a faint smile in his eyes.

"The little excursion doesn't seem to commend itself to
you," he said.

"No," answered Ingleby drily, "I can't say it does. I
had looked forward to spending a quiet day on the moors
to-morrow. It will in all probabilitv be the last Sunday I

11

12 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

shall ever pass in this country. Besides, considering that
I don't even belong to the Society, this notice is a trifle
peremptory. Why should the Committee confidently ex-
pect my co-operation in enforcing the right of way through
Willow Dene? I certainly did not tell anybody to keep
me a place in the wagonette, which they are good enough to
intimate has been done."

"Still, after that speech you made you will have to go.
You're in sympathy with the movement, anyway?"

Ingleby made a little impatient gesture. "I don't know
what came over me that night, and, to tell the truth, Leger,
I've been almost sorry I got up ever since. It was, in one
way, an astonishing piece of assurance, and I can't help a
fancy that most of those who heard me must have known
a good deal more about the subject than I did."

"It's not altogether improbable," and his companion
laughed. "In fact, twice when you made a point I heard
a man behind me quoting your authorities. Still, they
didn't expect you to be original."

" One or two of the others certainly were ; but that's not
quite the question. Of course, there is no excuse for the
closing of Willow Dene, but driving out in wagonettes on
Sunday doesn't quite appeal to me. It's over three miles,
too, unfortunately. One has, after all, to consider popular
— prejudice — you see."

Leger was slight of physique and of wholly undistin-
guished appearance, as well as shabbily dressed; but there
was a hint of rather more than intelligence in his sallow
face, and he had expressive brown eyes. A little twinkle
crept into them just then.

"I can remember occasions when it seemed to please you
to fly in the face of them, but your thoroughness isn't alto-
gether above suspicion now and then. One has to be one
thing or the other."

"You know my opinions."

"Oh, yes," said Leger smiling. "Most of your acquaint-

INGLEBY STANDS BY HIS OPINIONS 13

ances do. It would be a little astonishing if they didn't.
Still, you have a few effete aristocratic notions clinging
about you. Why shouldn't we drive out on Sunday, with
the traditional crimson neckties and clay pipes if it pleases
us, even if our presence is no great improvement to the
scenery, when it ought to be clear that we can't go any
other day ? Besides, what is a man of your opinions doing
with those luxuries yonder?"

He pointed to Ingleby's tennis flannels and black swim-
ming costume which hung behind the door. Ingleby
laughed.

"Are cleanliness and decency quite out of keeping with
democratic views? I'm fond of swimming, and the only
place where I can get into the river now is the big pool
beside the Thorndale road. It's a trifle public even at
seven A. M., but my landlady objects to my bathing here,
and since I can't afford the necessary apparatus I don't
blame her. She says it brings the plaster off the lower
ceilings, and I really think it does."

" There is the establishment provided by a beneficent
municipality."

"Where they charge you sixpence."

Leger nodded. "Sixpence," he said, "is certainly a con-
sideration. Still, there are days on which one can obtain
a sufficiency of water for half the sum. The plunge bath
is, I believe, forty feet long."

" It is the quality and not the quantity to which I object."

Leger shook his head reproachfully. "I'm afraid those
effete prejudices are still very strong in you. You play
tennis, too. How much does that cost you?"

"It's a question I'm not going to answei," and Ingleby
flushed hotly. "Anyway, I've had full value ior the money."

Leger smiled in a curious fashion as he looked at him,
but he changed the subject and pointed to the pamphlet
on the floor. "What do you think of the new apostle's
speeches ?"

14 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

A little sparkle crept into Ingleby's eyes. "They are,"
he said slowly, "almost a revelation. Even on paper one
feels the passion and the truth in them. The man's a
genius, and you have to believe in him. I could fancy him
doing anything he liked with you if you came in contact
with him."

"It is not quite out of the question. It was an Oregon
paper that first printed what he had to say, and I believe
that State is on the Pacific slope where you are going. You
evidently still mean to go?"

"Yes," said Ingleby shortly. "What chance is there for
me — or any of us — here ?"

Leger threw up the window and looked into the street.
The lights of a big gin palace flared down in the narrow
gap, and a stream of perspiring humanity flowed along
beneath them, slatternly women, and men with flattened
chests and shoulders bent by unhealthy toil, jostling one an-
other. The garish brilliancy touched their pallid faces, and
the harsh murmur of their voices came up hollowly between
the tall houses with the reek of gas fumes and other con-
fused odours. There were many poor in Hoddam, and in
hot weather bargains were to be had in the neighbouring
market at that hour; while trade was bad just then, and a
little lower down the street shadowy figures were flitting
into a pawnbroker's door. Leger's face grew a trifle weary
as he watched them.

"At the best it is a poor one," he said. "One feels in-
clined to wonder if — this — is to last forever."

" If s too big a question. Give it up, and come out with
me."

"And let the powers that be have it all their own way?"
said Leger.

"I'm afraid neither you nor I can prevent them. Be-
sides, from what this American says, there seem to be
people with grievances out yonder, too. A good many of
them, in fact. I expect there are everywhere."

INGLEBY STANDS BY HIS OPINIONS 15

Leger smiled. "I wonder," he said, "whether that has
just dawned on you. Still, I'm not so strong as you are —
and there's Hetty. You'll have to go alone, but you'll leave
at least two people behind you who will think of you
often."

He stopped abruptly, for there was a patter of feet on
the stairway, and Ingleby rose as the door swung open and
a girl came in. She carried a basket, and appeared a trifle
breathless, for the stairs were steep, but her dress was
tasteful, and most men would have admitted that she was
pretty. She took the chair Ingleby drew out, and smiled
at him.

"Do you know that the people downstairs would hardly
let me in?" she said. "You seem to be very well looked
after, but I knew you wouldn't mind me. I've come for
Tom."

Ingleby laughed, but it was a trifle uneasily, for he was
young, and by no means the girl's equal in the matter of
self-possession. In fact, one had only to look at Hetty
Leger to recognize that she was capable, and could be, on
occasion, a trifle daring, for there was courage as well as
cheerfulness in her clear blue eyes, which met one's glance
steadily from under dark and unusually straight brows.

"You have been marketing?" he said.

Hetty nodded. "Yes," she answered. "You can, if you
know how to go about it, get provisions cheap after ten
o'clock on Saturday night, and I have had the usual diffi-
culty in making ends meet this week. Wouldn't it be a
relief to iive in a country where there was no rent to pay
and you take a spade and grow what you want to eat ?"

"Ingleby's going where they do something of that kind,
though I believe they now and then dig up gold and silver,
too," said her brother.

Hetty, for no ostensible reason, pulled up one of her
little cotton gloves, which did not seem to need it, and
then looked quietly at Ingleby.

16 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Then you are going away?" she asked.

Her brother nodded. "Yes," he said. "To the Pacific
slope of North America. He was just suggesting that we
should come, too."

Hetty sat silent for several moments.

"Well?" she said at last.

"I told him it couldn't be thought of. For one thing,
it would cost a good deal of money."

Hetty glanced swiftly at Ingleby, and an older man
might have noticed the suppressed intentness in her face.

"I'm afraid Tom is right — though I wish you could
come," he said. "When I mentioned it I didn't remember
that he isn't very strong and that it must be a very rough
country for an Englishwoman. You wouldn't care to live
in a log hut forty miles from anywhere, Hetty?"

The girl now looked straight in front of her. "No, I
suppose not; but as I shall never get the chance, that
doesn't matter. Well, I think you are wise to go. There
are already more of us here than there seems to be any use
for."

Ingleby almost fancied that there was something slightly
unusual in her voice ; but her face was impassive, and she
rose with a little smile.

"It is getting late, Tom," she said. "You are both
going to the demonstration to-morrow?"

Ingleby said they were, and Hetty waited a moment,
apparently doing something to her hat, when her brother,
who took the basket, passed out of the room. She had a
pretty figure, and the pose she fell into with one rounded
arm raised and a little hand busy with the hatpin was not
unbecoming. She was also on excellent terms with Ingleby,
who leaned against the mantel watching her until she shook
the hat a trifle impatiently, when he stepped forward.

"If you want the thing put straight, let me try," he said.

Then, to his astonishment, the hand he had laid upon the
hat was snatched away, and next moment Hetty, with a

INGLEBY STANDS BY HIS OPINIONS 17

red spot in her cheek, stood at least a yard away from him.
She had moved so quickly that he was not quite sure how
she had got there.

"Do you think I am less particular than — any one else?"

"No," answered Ingleby contritely, with a trace of con-
fusion. "Certainly not. I would never have offered, only
we are such old friends ; and I think that when you brought
that hat home after buying it you let me put it on for you."

Hetty's face was still a trifle flushed, but she laughed.
"That," she said, "was a long time ago; but, after all, we
needn't quarrel. In fact, I let Tom go on because I had
something to ask you."

"Of course, anything I can do "

Hetty smiled sardonically. "Oh, yes, I know ! Still, it's
really very little — or I wouldn't ask you. Just to look after
Tom to-morrow. Now, he has in most ways a good deal
more sense than you "

"I can believe it," said Ingleby. "It really isn't very
astonishing."

"Still, you are stronger than he is, and he hasn't been
very well since he took up the night work at the mill. If
there should be any trouble you will look after him ?"

Ingleby promised; and, hearing her brother reascending
the stairway, the girl swiftly flitted out of the room, while
Ingleby sat down to consider, with the warmth still in his
face, for he was not quite pleased with himself, and, as a
natural result, a trifle vexed with Hetty. It was true, he
admitted, that the girl had made a somewhat enticing
picture as she stood with face partly turned from him and
one hand raised to htr head ; but it was, he decided, merely
the brotherly kindness he had always felt for her which had
prompted his offer, and it was unpleasant to feel that he
had done anything that might hurt her self-respect. Still,
he could not understand why this should be so, since she
had undoubtedly permitted him to put the hat on and
admire her in it not so very long ago, and he failed to dis-

18 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

cover any reason why she should, in the meanwhile, have
grown stricter in her views as to what was fitting. Nor
could he understand her question, which suggested that she
considered herself entitled to at least as much deference as
a person she preferred not to name.

Then, remembering that most young women were sub-
ject to unaccountable fancies now and then, he dismissed
the matter as of no importance, after all, and once more
busied himself with the American's speeches. They were
certainly stirring, and made the more impression because
he was unacquainted with Western hyperbole; but there
was in them, as wiser men had admitted, the ring of
genuine feeling, as well as a logical vindication of demo-
cratic aspirations. Ingleby was young, and his blood
warmed as he read ; while Hetty Leger, as she walked home
through the hot streets of the still noisy town with her
brother, was for once curiously silent, and almost morose,
though, considering the life she led, she was usually a
cheerful girl.

It was not much quieter on the following afternoon when
Ingleby, who, partly as a protest against the decrees of
conventionality, wore a soft cap and his one suit of light
summer tweed, met Leger on the doorstep of the Com-
mittee rooms of a certain Society. Several big wagonettes
were already drawn up, and men with pallid faces sat in
them, neatly attired for the most part, though somewhat to
Ingleby's annoyance several of them smoked clay pipes and
wore brilliant neckties and hard felt hats. He was quite
aware that it was unreasonable of him to object to this, but,
nevertheless, he could not help it. They were, however,
quiet and orderly enough, and indulged in no more than
good-humoured badinage with the crowd that had as-
sembled to see them off; but Ingleby felt inclined to pro-
test when Leger led him to a place on the box-seat of the
foremost vehicle, where a man was scattering leaflets among
the crowd.

INGLEBY STANDS BY HIS OPINIONS 19

"Couldn't we sit anywhere else?" he asked. "It's a little
conspicuous here."

Leger shook his head. "That can't be helped," he said.
"It's the penalty of making speeches. You are considered
one of the stalwarts now. There's no use in objecting to
the result when you have been guilty of the cause, you
know."

"I'll be especially careful another time," said Ingleby,
with a little grimace. "In the meanwhile I'm ready to do
anything you can reasonably expect of me."

Then there was a cracking of whips and a rattle of
wheels, and the discordant notes of a cornet broke through
the semi-ironical cheer; and, as they rolled across the river,
which, foul with the refuse of tanneries and dye-works,
crept out of the close-packed town, a man who sat on the
bridge waved his hat to the leading driver.

"Take them straight to the lock-up, Jim," he said. "It
will save everybody trouble, and what's the U3e of going
round ?"

Then they wound through dusky woods out of the hot
valley, and down the long white road across a sun-baked
moor, where the dust whirled behind them in a rolling
cloud. However, the men in the foremost vehicle got little
of it, and Ingleby felt that the drive would have been pleas-
ant in different circumstances, as he watched the blue hills
that rose in the dazzling distance, blurred with heat. Only
one white fleecy cloud flecked the sweep of cerulean, and the
empty moor lay still under the drowsy silence of the Sun-
day afternoon. It seemed to him most unfitting that the
harsh voices of his companions, the clatter of hoofs, and
the doleful tooting of the cornet, should jar upon it. Then
as they dipped into a hollow they came upon other trav-
ellers, all heading in the same direction, who hurled some-
what pointed jests at them as they passed; but these did
not exactly resemble the men in the wagonettes. Their
attire was by no means neat, and they had not in the least

20 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

the appearance of men about to discharge a duty, while
several of them carried heavy sticks.

"I wonder what they mean to do with those bludgeons,"
said Ingleby a trifle uneasily.

Leger laughed. "I have no doubt they would come in
handy for killing pheasants. There are, I believe, a good
many young ones down in the Dene. Of course, the Com-
mittee could very well dispense with the company of those
fellows, but we can't prevent any man from asserting his
rights as a Briton."

"That," said Ingleby, grimly, "is in one respect almost
a pity. The difficulty is that somebody will get the credit
of our friends' doings."

"Of course!" and Leger laughed again. "You can't be
a reformer for nothing; you have to take the rough with
the smooth — though there is, as a rule, verv little of the
latter."

Ingleby said nothing further ; but it dawned on him, as it
had, indeed, done once or twice before, that even a defec-
tive system of preserving peace and order might be prefer-
able to none at all. Still, he naturally would not admit his
misgivings, and said nothing until the wagonettes rolled
into a little white village gay with flowers and girt about
by towering beeches. The windows of an old grey house
caught the sunlight and flashed among the trees, and, as
the vehicles drew up, a trim groom on a splendid horse
swept out through the gate of a clematis-covered lodge.

Then there was a hoarse cheer from a group of dilapi-
dated and dusty loungers as the men swung themselves
down outside the black-beamed hostelry which bore a coat-
of-arms above its portal. They were unusually quiet, and
Leger, who glanced at them, touched Ingleby's shoulder.

"They'll do their work," he said. "Still, I fancy we are
expected, and I'm not sure that I'd be sorry if we had the
thing done, and were driving home again."

Ill

CONFLICTING CLAIMS

TpHE sunlight beat down fiercely on the shaven grass,
and a drowsy hum of bees stole through the stillness
of the Sunday afternoon when Grace Coulthurst and Geof-
frey Esmond strolled across the lawn at Holtcar Grange.
There were at least two acres of it, flanked by dusky firs and
relieved on two sides by patches of graduated colour, while
on the third side one looked out towards the blue hills across
the deep hollow of Willow Dene into which the beech woods
rolled down. A low wall, along which great urns of scarlet
geraniums were set, cut off the lawn from the edge of the
descent, and Grace, seating herself on the broad coping,
glanced down into the cool shadow, out of which the sound
of running water came up.

"It really looks very enticing on a day like this. Don't
you think it is a little hard on the Hoddam people to shut
them out of it?" she said.

Her companion, who leaned, with his straw hat tilted
back, against one of the flower-filled urns, smiled as he
glanced down at her. He was a young man of slender,
wily frame, with an air of graceful languidness which
usually sat well upon him, though there were occasions on
which it was not readily distinguished from well-bred in-
solence.

"I suppose it is, but they brought it upon themselves,"
he said. "Nobody would mind their walking quietly
through the Dene, even if they did leave their sandwich
papers and their bottles behind them."

21

22 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"I have seen wire baskets provided in such places," said
Grace.

The young owner of Holtcar Grange laughed. " So have
I. In fact, I tried it here, and put up a very civil notice
pointing out what they were for. The Hoddam people,
however, evidently considered it an unwarrantable inter-
ference with their sacred right to make as much mess of
another person's property as they pleased, for soon after
the baskets arrived we found that somebody had taken the
trouble to collect them and deposit them in the lake."

"A gardener could, however, pick up a good many papers
in an afternoon."

"It would naturally depend upon how hard he worked,
and, as you may have noticed, undue activity is not a
characteristic of anybody at the Grange. Still, it would be
several years before he made a young holly from which the
leading stem had been cut out grow again; besides which
the proletariat apparently consider themselves entitled to
dig up the primroses and daffodils by basketfuls with
spades."

Grace was not greatly interested in the subject, but it
at least was safe, and Geoffrey Esmond's conversation had
hitherto taken a rather more personal turn than she cared
about.

"Still, you could spare them a few wild flowers," she said.

She turned and glanced across the velvet lawn towards
the old grey house flanked by its ancient trees. The sun-
light lay bright upon its time-mellowed fagade. and was
flung back from the half-hidden orchid houses and vineries.
Esmond apparently understood her, and for a moment his
eyes rested curiously upon her face.

"You mean I have rather more than my share of what
most people long for? Still, you ought to know that no-
body is ever quite content, and that what one has only sets
one wishing for more."

Grace laughed. "One would certainly fancy that you

CONFLICTING CLAIMS 23

had quite enough already — but I wonder if one might ask
you if you have heard from Keggie lately?"

Esmond's face hardened a trifle. "You, at least, might.
He does not write often — naturally — though I always had
a fancy that Reggie mightn't, after all, have been so very
much to blame as most people seem to think. Anyway,
we had a letter a few weeks ago, and he had got his com-
mission in the Canadian mounted police. He ought to be
thankful — in the circumstances."

"I am pleased to hear it," and a just perceptible trace of
colour showed in Grace's cheeks. "It is rather a coinci-
dence that my father, who went up to London a week ago,
came back with the expectation of obtaining a Government
post in Western Canada, a Crown Commissioner on the new
gold-fields I think. He was in charge of a mining district
in Western Africa, you know. I should probably go to
Canada with him."

"Then one would sincerely hope that Major Coulthurst
will get a post at home."

He stopped, perhaps warned by something in his com-
panion's attitude, and she deftly turned the subject back
to the grievance the Hoddam people thought they had
against him. The fact that they had apparently a good
deal to say to each other had in the meanwhile not escaped
attention. A few lounge chairs had been laid out about a
little table in the shadow of a big chestnut, and from one
of them a lady of some importance in that vicinity watched
the pair with distinct disapprobation. Holtcar Grange was
but a portion of young Esmond's inheritance, and she had
several daughters of her own. She frowned as she turned
to the lady nearest her.

"That girl," she said acidly, "is making excellent use
of her opportunities. It does not appear to matter which
one it is, so long as he belongs to the family."

Her companion looked up languidly. "The drift of that
last remark is not especially plain."

24 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"It would have been if you had seen what w^nt on before
Keggie Esmond went, or rather was sent, out to Canada.
The major was in Africa then, and the girl was staying here.
She was only just out of the schoolroom, but that did not
prevent her attaching herself to Eeggie. It was only when
he was no longer worth powder and shot that she turned her
attention to his cousin."

This, as it happened, was very little nearer the truth
than such statements usually are, when made by a matron
who has an unappreciated daughter's future to provide for;
but the lady who heard it understood the reason for her
companion's rancour.

"Grace Coulthurst," she said, "is pretty, and has really
an excellent style. Besides, her father evidently has means
of his own."

The first speaker smiled compassionately. "Major Coul-
thurst thrives upon his debts; he threw away what little
money he had in speculation. Then he got himself sent
out to West Africa, and either allowed the niggers too much
of their own way or worried them unnecessarily, for they
turned out and killed some of their neighbours who worked
at the mines. That resulted in black troops being sent up,
and Coulthurst, who led them into a swamp they couldn't
get across, was afterwards quietly placed upon the shelf.
In fact, I believe he pins his hopes upon the men appointed
by the new Government remembering their unfortunate
friends."

"That," remarked her companion drily, "is, after all,
what a good many of us seem to think the Government is
there for."

She might have said more, but a little, black-robed lady
and a burly red-faced man with a merry twinkle in his eyes
and a tinge of grey in his hair, appeared just then. The
latter held himself well, and did not in the least look like a
man who had borne much responsibility in pestilential
Africa. As a matter of fact, Major Coulthurst, who was

CONFLICTING CLAIMS 25

by no means brilliant either as administrator or soldier,
took his cares lightly.

"And you fancy you will get the appointment?" asked
Mrs. Esmond, looking up at him.

"I hope so," said Coulthurst. "I really think the people
in office ought to do something for me. I contrived to
save them a good deal of trouble with the French on the
frontier. Still I don't know what to do with Grace if I
get it, though I had thoughts of taking her out to
Canada."

Mrs. Esmond appeared to reflect for a moment or two.

"Is there any reason why you shouldn't leave her here?"
she said. "I think I took good care of her before."

They had almost reached the table where the others sat,
and Coulthurst stopped with a shadow of perplexity in his
sunburnt face. He was a widower with insufficient means,
and had one or two somewhat pointed letters from im-
portunate creditors in his pocket then. He had also been
a friend of Mrs. Esmond's for more than twenty years, but,
though by no means fastidious in some respects, there were
points on which he possessed a certain delicacy of senti-
ment.

" I almost think there is. Grace, you see, is older now,"
he said.

Mrs. Esmond looked up, and, as it happened, Grace
Coulthurst and Geoffrey Esmond came slowly towards them
across the lawn just then. The young man's gaze was
fixed upon the girl, but she was looking away from him,
which increased the suggestiveness of his attitude and
expression, for both of those who watched them could see
his face. Grace was indeed distinctly pretty, and that after-
noon the indefinite but unmistakable attribute which the
woman who had defended her termed good style was es-
pecially noticeable. It was expressed in the poise of the
little head, the erect carriage, and even the fashion in.
which the light draperies hung in flowing lines about the

£6 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

shapely figure. Then the black-robed lady turned, and
looked at Coulthurst steadily.

"Yes," he said, though she had not spoken. "Her
mother would have known what was right — and fitting, but
since she was taken from me I feel it — a responsibility, to
say the least."

"Could you not trust me?"

"In everything. That is, unless it was to your own dis-
advantage— or what would certainly be regarded so. You
mean me to be frank, I think ?"

"Of course! In any case, I am not sure that you are
capable of concealing your sentiments."

"Then," said Coulthurst gravely, "I should like you to
remember that Grace has nothing."

Mrs. Esmond smiled. "And Geoffrey has a good deal?
Still, we have it on excellent authority that the value of
a good woman is above rubies."

Major Coulthurst was red-faced and burly, and usually
abrupt in his movements; but his attitude became him as
he made his companion a little grave inclination.

" Grace is very like her mother — I cannot say more than
that."

Perhaps it was not very tactful ; though he did not know
what the gossips had whispered when he was a reckless
subaltern long ago. In any case, he had married a woman
with as few possessions as he himself had, and his life had
been a hard one ever since. His companion, however,
smiled somewhat curiously.

"I think she is in many ways like her father too; but
that is scarcely the point," she said. "I have offered to
take care of her for you."

"Well," said Coulthurst quietly, "when the time comes
we will try to decide, and in the meanwhile I can only thank
you."

Then they joined the others, and for awhile sat talking
in the shade, until Geoffrey Esmond, who had taken his

CONFLICTING CLAIMS 27

place beside them, looked up suddenly with a curious con-
traction of his face.

"I am almost afTaid we are going to have some undesir-
able visitors," he said.

From beyond the trees that shut the lawn off from the
village there rose the tooting of a cornet, which was fol-
lowed by a cheer and a rattle of wheels. Then there was a
murmur of harsh voices which broke portentously through
the slumbrous quietness, and Esmond, rising abruptly,
glanced at the major, who walked a little apart with him.
Esmond looked, worried.

"Yes," he said in answer to the major's questioning
glance, "I fancy they are coming to pull my gates and
fences down. Koberts, the groom, heard enough in Hoddam
to suggest that they were plotting something of the kind,
and I told him to have a horse saddled, though I didn't
quite believe it myself. There are, however, evidently
several wagonette-loads of them yonder."

"The question is," said Coulthurst sharply, "do you
mean to let them in?"

The young man laughed. " I should almost have fancied
it was unnecessary. Including the keepers, I can roll up
six men. That makes eight with you and me, while Leslie,
who is a magistrate, as you know, lives scarcely two miles
away."

"Then you had better send for him. Eight men with the
law behind them should be quite enough to hold off the
rabble — that is, so long as no blow is struck ; but you will
excuse my mentioning that you will require to keep a firm
hand on your temper."

"I'll try, though I have been told it isn't a very ex-
cellent one," said the younger man. "Now, if you will
beguile the women into the house, I'll make arrangements."

Coulthurst was not a clever man, but he contrived to
accomplish it ; and it was some twenty minutes later when
he and Esmond walked down a path beneath the beeches

28 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

with four or five men behind them. The major carried
a riding whip, and there was a curions little smile in his
eyes, while the rest had sticks, though in accordance with
his instructions they made no display of them. The wood
was shadowy and very still, and there was no sound but
that made by startled rabbits, until they came out into the
sunlight, where a spiked railing crossed a narrow glade.
There was a mossy path beyond it chequered with patches
of cool shadow, and a group of dusty men were moving
down it towards the padlocked gate. The foremost of them
stopped when they saw the party from the Grange, and
then after a whispered consultation came on again.

"Where are you going?" asked Esmond.

"Into the Dene," said one of the strangers.

"You have been to the lodge to ask permission ?"

"No," said another hot and perspiring man, "we haven't.
It isn't necessary."

"I'm afraid it is," said Esmond quietly. "In fact, there
is a board to that effect a few yards back. No doubt you
noticed it."

The man laughed. "We did. It isn't there now. We
pulled it up."

Esmond flushed a trifle. " Then if you ever wish to get
into the Dene I think you made a mistake," he said. " Still,
as you can't get any farther to-day, you may as well go
back. This gate is locked."

"That don't count," said somebody. "We'll have it
off its hinges inside five minutes."

The lad swung round sharply towards the speaker, but
Coulthurst laid a restraining hand upon his arm. "Steady !"
he said, and raised his voice a trifle. "Now, look here, my
men, you certainly can't come in, and you'll only get
yourselves into trouble by trying. This is private prop-
erty."

"Of course!" said one of the strangers. "Everything
is. You've got the land, and you've got the water — one

CONFLICTING CLAIMS 29

can't even bathe in the river now. It's not your fault you
can't lay hands on the air and sunshine, too."

There was an approving murmur from his comrades, and
Esmond shook off the major's grasp.

"That is rot!" he said. "Willow Dene belongs to me,
and you are certainly not coming in. I don't feel inclined
to explain my reasons for keeping you out of it, and it's
quite probable you wouldn't understand them. Have you
brought any responsible person to whom one could talk
along with you?"

The languid insolence in his even tone had an effect
which a flood of invective might have failed to produce;
and once more there was a murmur from the crowd, while
a man with a grim, dust-smeared face held up a bludgeon.

"We've brought these, and they're good enough," he said.

Then the men moved a little, and there were cries of
"Let him have a chance !" as a young man pushed his way
through them. He was plainly and neatly dressed and
carried nothing in his hand.

"I'm sorry our Committee is not here to lay our views
before you, Mr. Esmond, which was what we had intended ;
but if you will try to look at the thing sensibly it will save
everybody trouble," he said.

"What has become of the worthy gentlemen? Weren't
they capable of walking from the 'Griffin' ?" asked Esmond
drily. "It really isn't very far."

The young man did not appear to notice the jibe. " The
fact is, we had a little dispute among ourselves," he said.
"The views of the Committee didn't quite coincide with
those of the rest, but since the Committee is not here I
should like to point out that the Hoddam people have
passed through the Dene without hindrance for at least
twenty years, and as that gives them a legal right of way
they mean to continue doing it. Now, if you will make no
opposition we will promise that no damage whatever will
be done to your property."

SO DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Don't you worry about the concerned Committee,"
said a roice from the crowd. "It's got the sulks. Only
two turned out. We're going by what Mr. Leger says."

Esmond glanced at the man in front of him, with a little
sardonic smile. "I have only your assurance, and I'm
afraid it would scarcely be wise to place more confidence
in your friends than their leaders seem to have done.
Their appearance is, unfortunately, against them."

There were cries of "Stop it, Leger; you're wasting time !
Tell him to get out of the way ! We're coming in !"

The young man raised his hand. "I believe they mean
it, Mr. Esmond. Now, there are two sensible courses open
to you. Unlock that gate and make no further opposition ;
or stand aside while we lift it off its hinges, and then
proceed against us for trespassing. You will, if you are
wise, make no attempt to prevent our getting in."

There was a moment's silence, and the little knot of men
behind the gate and the crowd outside watched each other's
faces. One or two were evidently uneasy, others a trifle
grim, but there was a portentous murmur from the dusty
rabble farther back in the shadow. Then young Esmond
laughed in an unpleasant fashion as he drew the lash of his
dog-whip suggestively through his hand.

"Whoever lays a hand upon this gate will take the conse-
quences," he said.

Coulthurst touched his shoulder, and said something in
his ear, but the young man moved away from him im-
patiently.

"Am I to be dictated to by this rabble? Let them
come!" he said.

The major made a little gesture of resignation. "Well,"
he said, "if you are determined to make trouble I think
you will get your wish."

Then the front of the crowd split up, and several men
came out from it carrying between them what appeared to
be the post to which the notice-board had been nailed. They

CONFLICTING CLAIMS 31

came on at a run, and, disregarding the major's warning,
swung it like a battering ram. Next moment there was a
crash. The gate rattled, but still held fast, while the lash
of Esmond's dog-whip curled round one man's hand. He
loosed his hold upon the post with a howl, his comrades
recoiled, and there was an angry cry from the rear of the
crowd, while a sod alighted squarely in the major's face.
He wiped it quietly with his handkerchief, and then seizing
Esmond by main force thrust him a few paces aside.

"Go home, my men, and you have my word that the
affair shall go no further," he said. "It's your last chance.
We'll have a magistrate and several policemen here in a
very few minutes."

"Look out for yourself," said somebody. "We're noth-
ing against you. Now, pick up your post, boys, and down
with the thing!"

The men with the post came on again ; there was a roar
from the crowd, and a crash, as the gate swung open ; then
as a man with a stick sprang through the gap Esmond's
dog-whip came down upon his face. Next moment some-
body had hurled him backwards, and the crowd rolled
through the opening.

"Back there! Look after your master, Jenkins!" the
major's voice rang out, and a man dropped suddenly be-
neath his riding-crop.

Then nobody knew exactly what happened, but while the
sticks rose and fell Ingleby and Esmond, who had evaded
the burly keeper, found themselves face to face. Esmond,
who was flushed and gasping, swung the dog-whip round
his head, but before he struck, Leger sprang straight at him
with empty hands. Then a stick that somebody swung came
down, and Esmond fell just clear of the rest, with a gash
on his forehead from which there spread a crimson smear.
Leger staggered forward, and the major gripped his
shoulder and flung him into the arms of a keeper.

"Hold him fast! That's the lad who did it," he said,

32 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

and faced round on the crowd with hand swung up and
voice ringing commandingly.

"You have already done as much as you will care to
account for," he said. "Manslaughter is a somewhat seri-
ous thing."

The tumult ceased for a moment, and everybody saw
Esmond lying very still upon the turf with the ominous
smear of crimson on his blanched face. His eyes were
half closed now, and they had an unpleasantly suggestive
appearance. Then Ingleby stepped forward and turned to
Coulthurst.

"Nobody will interfere with you while you take him
away, but the man you have was not the one who struck
him down," he said. "Give him up, and we'll go back
quietly."

The Major smiled grimly. "I hope," he said, "to hand
him to the police inside five minutes."

"Look here," said somebody, "it was all Mr. Esmond's
own fault, and, so to speak, an accident. Go and get a
doctor for him, and let us have our man."

There was a little hard glitter in Coulthurst's eyes. "He
will find it difficult to persuade a jury of that. Stick to
the lad, Jenkins, and pick Mr. Esmond up, two of you.
Stand aside there, and it's possible that we will not proceed
against any more of you."

Ingleby turned to the crowd. "You're not going
to let them hand him to the police for a thing he didn't
do?"

There was a rush and a scuffle, the major's riding-crop
was torn from him, and groom and gardener and keeper
were swept away, while Ingleby, laughing harshly, reeled
into the shadow of the trees with his hand on Leger's
shoulder.

"I think," he said, "there's nothing that need keep us
here."

Then, while some of his companions pursued Esmond's

CONFLICTING CLAIMS 33

retainers, and the rest stood still, uncertain what to do
next, Ingleby started back through the woods towards Hod-
dam, dragging Leger, who seemed a trifle dazed.

IV

LEGEK'S RESPONSIBILITY

EGER was paler than usual, as well as breathless and
very dusty, when he flung himself down in a dilapi-
dated arm-chair in Ingleby's room. The window was open,
for it was very hot, and Ingleby, who stood near it, ap-
peared to be listening intently to the patter of feet that
came up from the narrow street, until he moved forward
and laid his hand upon the sash. Then Leger laughed hol-
lowly.

"I don't think that's necessary, and I wish you would
leave it as it is just now," he said. "Considering that you
live on the fourth story they're scarcely likely to come in
that way."

"I did it without thinking," said Ingleby, who turned to
him a trifle flushed in face. "You're looking faint. I can
get you some water — fortunately if s cheap."

"I'll be all right in a minute or two," and Leger made a
little deprecatory gesture. "I'm not sure I ever made four
miles quite so fast before, and the blow I got from that
fellow's dog-whip, the handle end, must have shaken me.
Never mind the water."

Ingleby sat down, a trifle limply, and, unconscious of the
fact that his own clothes were badly torn, gazed at his com-
panion. Leger's dusty disarray heightened the effect of his
pallor, and his hair, dank with perspiration, lay smeared
upon his forehead, while there was a big discoloured bruise
upon one cheek. They had come home across the meadow
and through the woodland instead of by the road, and

34

LEGER'S RESPONSIBILITY 35

neither of them remembered how many hedges and thickets
they had scrambled through, since the one thing apparent
was the advisability of escaping attention.

"We made an excellent pace," Ingleby said. "I scarcely
think that the others can have got here yet. They hadn't
the same necessity for haste. Still, I'm almost afraid it
was wasted energy. You see, the police wouldn't be very
long in tracing us."

"I don't suppose so. That big military-looking fellow
meant to make sure of me. No doubt he'll send a groom
over with our description. He seemed to recognize you,
too."

Ingleby rose abruptly and leaned against the mantel with
his lips firmly set. It was several moments before he spoke
again.

"I think he did," he said. "In fact, Fd have done al-
most anything sooner than have had this happen; though,
that doesn't matter now. There's a more important ques-
tion— and it has to be faced."

They looked at each other in silence for a second or two,
and both their faces were very grim with the shadow of
fear in them. They were young, and shrank from the con-
templation of what it seemed had been done. The thing
was horrible in itself, quite apart from the consequences,
which promised to be disastrous.

"You mean/' said Leger very quietly, "is he dead?"

Ingleby made a little gesture, and once more for almost
a minute the heavy silence was intensified by the ticking
of his watch and the sounds in the street below. Both of
them listened intently, almost expecting to hear the tramp
of heavy feet upon the stairway.

"Heaven forbid !" said Ingleby, a trifle hoarsely. "Still,
he looked horribly like it. There's just one thing of which
I should like to be quite certain."

"Of course !" and Leger met his comrade's gaze. "Sup-
pose I told you I did it, would it separate us?"

36 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"No," said Ingleby. "You know that. It might have
been I ; and, anyway, we were both in the thing."

"Then, as you supposed, the military man was mistaken.
I had nothing in my hands, and never even reached him."

Ingleby, in spite of his protestations, drew a deep breath
of relief, but Leger, who appeared to be recovering now,
smiled.

"Well," he said, "you're satisfied, but it doesn't in the
least affect the position. You see, the military gentleman
appeared certain he saw me strike the blow, and I scarcely
think my word would go very far against his with the
usual kind of jury."

"You know who did it?"

Leger smiled curiously. "I do, but you ought to under-
stand that the fact isn't of much use to me."

"You mean?"

"I could plead not guilty, but I couldn't point out the
man responsible. You see, I induced him to join the So-
ciety, and gave him the American's pamphlets — I believe
the more virulent ones. They seemed to make a strong im-
pression on him. One can't well back out of his responsi-
bility— especially when the adversary is always ready to
make the most of the opportunity. Besides, the man has a
family."

Ingleby clenched one hand. "And you have Hetty."

"Yes," said Leger with an impressive quietness. "And
Hetty has only me. Still, one must do what he feels he
has to."

"But you can't leave Hetty — and what would happen to'
her if you were "

"If I were in jail?" and Leger's face went awry. "She
would be turned out of her berth to a certainty. It didn't
quite strike me until you put the thing before me. There's
the lad's mother too. A little horrible, isn't it? How
long does one usually get for manslaughter?"

Again there was silence save for Ingleby's groan. Demo-

LEGER'S RESPONSIBILITY 37

eratic aspirations were very well as subjects for discussion,
but now that be was brought face to face with the results of
attempting to realize them, they appalled him. He did
not remember that usually very little worth the having can
be obtained without somebody's getting hurt ; and it would
have afforded him no great consolation if he had remem-
bered, since, for the time being, he had had quite enough of
theories. Then he made a little abrupt gesture.

"Tom," he said, "what dolts we are! The thing is
perfectly simple. You have only to come out with me,
and the fact that you've made a bolt of it will be quite
enough to divert suspicion from the other man."

" There is a difficulty. Steamboat fares cost money, and
I'm not sure Hetty and I have five pounds in the treasury. "

Ingleby laughed almost light-heartedly. "I think I
have enough to take us all out at the cheapest rates, and
you must let me lend it to you, if only to prove that what
you believe in isn't an impracticable fancy."

Leger slowly straightened himself. "I don't want to be
ungracious — but it's a difficult thing to do. The money's
yours — and you'd have nothing left."

Ingleby laid a hand on his shoulder, and gripped it hard.
"Are you willing to see your sister cast adrift to save your
confounded pride ? The fact that she has a relative under-
going penal servitude isn't much of a recommendation to a
girl who has to earn her bread. Besides, like a good many
of us, you're not logical. You thought you had a claim on
Esmond's property."

* There was a light step on the stairway, and he stopped
suddenly. "There's Hetty," he said. "We'll leave it to
her."

The door swung open, and the girl came in gasping, with
horror in her eyes.

"Oh," she said, "it's awful! They've come in with the
wagonettes, and Harry told me. How did it happen ?"

"Sit down," said Ingleby gently. "Tom will explain."

38 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Leger did so concisely, and Hetty clenched the chair-
arm hard as she listened to him. Still, young as she was,
she held herself in hand, and sat very still, with the colour
ebbing from her face.

"What shall we do?" she said.

"Ingleby has asked us to go out to Canada with him.
He offers to lend us the money."

The girl's face flushed suddenly, and she glanced at
Ingleby, who appeared embarrassed.

"How much will you have left if you do that?" she
asked.

"I don't know yet. Anyway, it doesn't matter. If you
make any silly objections, Hetty, Tom will go to jail."

The girl turned to her brother, with the crimson still in
her cheek and her lips quivering, and it suddenly struck
Ingleby that she was really remarkably pretty, though that
appeared of no great moment just then.

"That would happen, Tom?" she said.

"Yes," said Leger quietly; "I believe it would."

Hetty turned again, and looked at Ingleby with a curious
intentness. "You are quite sure you want us?"

Ingleby, moved by an impulse he did not understand,
caught and held fast one of her hands. "Hetty," he said,
"aren't we old friends? There is nobody I would sooner
take with me, but we shall certainly quarrel if you ask me
a question of that kind again."

The girl's expression perplexed him, and with a sudden
movement she drew her hand away. "Well," she said,
"we will come. I would stay — only I know Tom would not
go without me; but whatever happens we will pay you
back the money."

"I don't think you want to be unpleasant, Hetty," said
Ingleby. "Anyway, you have only about an hour in which
to get ready, because if we're not off by the next train it's
quite likely that we shall not have the opportunity for
going at all. Get what you want together, and meet us be-

LEGER'S RESPONSIBILITY 39

hind the booking office on the main line platform. Tom
and I will take the back way to the station."

Hetty turned and went out without a word, and Leger
looked at his companion.

"I don't think she meant to hurt you, but what she did
mean exactly is a good deal more than I understand," he
said.

Ingleby made a little impatient gesture. "I don't sup-
pose it matters. Girls seem to have curious fancies. In
the meanwhile it might be as well if we made a start. I'll
lend you a decent jacket, and, as you had a cap on, it would
be advisable to take my straw hat. To carry out the same
notion I'll slip on my one dark suit. They usually make a
point of mentioning one's clothes."

They were ready in about ten minutes, but when they
had descended the long stairway Ingleby stopped in the
dingy hall, and stood still a moment irresolute.

"If it wasn't for the harpy downstairs we might get
clear away before anybody was aware that we had gone,"
he said. "I can't leave her what I owe her either, for one
never does seem to have change when he wants it. How
much have you got on you?"

"A handful of copper," said Leger, with a little grim
smile.

Ingleby appeared to reflect. "I could send her the few
shillings from wherever we stop."

"The Post Office people obligingly stamp every envelope
with the name of the place it comes from. I don't think
we want to leave a trail behind us."

Ingleby stood still a moment longer with a flush in his
face. "Nothing would stop that woman's talking — not
even a gag. It's horribly unfortunate."

"It usually is," and Leger looked at him with a curious
little smile. "The worst of having a propaganda is that
the people who haven't any get indignant when one doesn't

40 Delilah of the snows

live up to it. They naturally lay part of the blame on the
fallacies he believes in."

Ingleby swung round. "I'd sooner face a battery — but
I'm going down."

He disappeared down the basement steps, and in another
minute a harsh voice apparently vituperating him rose up,
and when he rejoined his comrade his face was redder
than ever.

"Now," he said, "we'll go ; the sooner the better. Every-
body in the neighbourhood will know what she thinks of
me inside of ten minutes."

They slipped out into the street, and Ingleby stopped a
moment at the end of it and looked back with a curious
expression in his face. The sunlight that lay bright upon
one side of it emphasized its unattractiveness. Tall houses,
grim in their squalid ugliness, shut it in, and the hot air
that scarcely stirred between them was heavy with the sour
odours from a neighbouring tanyard. A hoarse clamour
and a woman's voice, high-pitched and shrill with fear or
anger, came out of a shadowy alley where unkempt children
played in the gutter. The uproar did not concern them.
They were apparently used to it.

"I've lived five years in the midst of — this — and now I'm
almost sorry to leave it," he said. "There's no reason
in us."

Then he turned again with a little resolute shake of his
shoulders. "Well, we have done with it at last, and if half
what one hears is true there is a chance for such as us in
the country we are going to."

Leger said nothing, and it was silently they threaded
their way deviously in and out of alleys and archways to-
wards the station. Their life had been a hard one in that
squalid town, but the place had, after all, been home, and
they could not tell what awaited them in the unknown.
They had in them the steadfastness which is born of strug-

LEGER'S RESPONSIBILITY 41

gle, but the unthinking courage of youth that has felt no
care is quite a different thing.

However, nobody appeared desirous of preventing their
departure, and they eventually got away by a steamer for
which they had to wait several days in Liverpool.

In the meanwhile Geoffrey Esmond lay one evening
propped up amidst the pillows in a darkened room at Holt-
car Grange. He was blanched in face, and his eyes were
heavy, while a big wet bandage was still rolled about his
head. Major Coulthurst was by his bedside, and a burly
sergeant of police sat on the very edge of a sofa with a note-
book in his hand. The window was open behind the blind,
and a little cool air that brought the fragrance of flowers
with it crept into the room.

"Major Coulthurst fancied he could recognize the man
who assaulted you, Mr. Esmond, and I have no doubt we
will lay hands on him in a day or two," said the officer.
"If you could identify him, too, it would make the thing
more certain, and I would like to read you the description
furnished me before we go any farther."

"If that is the usual course I don't see why I should
object," said Esmond drily. " Still, isn't it a trifle sugges-
tive?"

The sergeant did not appear to notice the irony of the
inquiry, and launched out into what was, in the circum-
stances, a tolerably accurate description of Leger. Esmond
listened quietly, with a little smile in his half-closed eyes.

"Major Coulthurst," he said, "is evidently astonishingly
quick-sighted if he saw all that."

"I'm not sure I understand you, Esmond," and Coul-
thurst looked up sharply.

"Well," said the younger man reflectively, "I always
fancied you were a sportsman, and we had our fun. Of
course, while it lasted I would cheerfully have broken the
Socialist fellow's head if I could have managed it, but just
now the odds seem a trifle heavy against him."

42 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Coulthurst laughed a little, but the sergeant shook his
head. "That's not at all the way to look at it, sir," he
said. "In a case of this kind one has, if I may point it out,
a duty to society."

"And the police?" said Esmond, who made a little ges-
ture. "I really do not think I should ask the opinion of
the latter as to what is incumbent on me. Still, that is
scarcely the point. You want me to identify the man —
and I can't do it."

"You must have seen him close to, sir."

Esmond laughed. "Have you ever had incipient con-
cussion of the brain? You probably haven't. I believe
they line your headgear with cork or cane. Well, in one
respect, it's a little unfortunate, since it would have helped
you to understand my position. Now, the major says the
man's hair was light brown, but so far as I can remember
it was red. Are you quite sure it wasn't, Coulthurst?"

Coulthurst appeared reflective. "He certainly had his
hat on."

"A cap, sir," said the sergeant.

Esmond glanced at the major reproachfully. "You will
notice, sergeant, how reliable he is."

"The fact mentioned wouldn't prevent your seeing what
kind of man he was," said the sergeant, tartly. "He is
described as little and pale, and of a delicate appearance."

"Then if the blow on my head is anything to go by, I
really think my friend was mistaken," said Esmond. "It's
my firm opinion the man was distinctly muscular."

The sergeant stood up, and closed his book. "The affair
is a serious one, and we naturally look to a gentleman of
your position for "

Esmond stopped him with a gesture and a little languid
smile, under which, however, the burly sergeant flushed.

"As I fancy I mentioned, there are matters in which it
is hardly the province of the police to instruct me," he said.
"I'm sorry I can't do anything more for you to-day, ser-

LEGER'S RESPONSIBILITY 43

geant, but if you were to come round when my head has
settled down a little I might be able to recollect the fellow's
appearance rather more distinctly."

"If we are to lay hands on him we must have a warrant
at once."

"Then if it depends on me I'm very much afraid you will
not get it — and now, as the doctor insists on quietness, you
will excuse me. Can you reach the bell, Major?"

The sergeant went out fuming inwardly, and Coulthurst
laughed. "I'm not quite sure that I should have let the
fellow off," he said. "What made you do it?"

"I really don't know, and scarcely think it matters,"
said Esmond languidly. "Still, you see, I fancv we went
a little farther than the law would sanction, and that being
so one could scarcely expect the other fellow to pay for
everything. Now, if I might remind you, Miss Coulthurst
was kind enough to promise to come in and talk to me."

THE NEW COUNTRY

TT was a still evening, and Major Coulthurst and Mrs.
Esmond paced slowly side by side up and down the
terrace at Holtcar Grange. The house looked westward,
and the last of the sunshine rested lovingly upon its weath-
ered front, where steep tiled roof and flaking stone that had
silvery veins in it were mellowed to pale warm tints by age.
Beyond it, orchid house, fernery, and vinery flashed amidst
the trees ; while the great cool lawn, shaven to the likeness
of emerald velvet, glowing borders, and even the immacu-
late gravel that crunched beneath the major's feet con-
veyed the same suggestion to him. It was evident that there
was no need of economy at Holtcar Grange, and Coulthurst,
who had faced the world long enough to recognize the dis-
advantages of an empty purse, sighed as he remembered the
last budget the post had brought him.

He had served his nation sturdily, according to his lights,
which, however, were not especially brilliant, wherever
work was hardest and worst paid ; while now, when it was
almost time to rest, he was going out again to the wilderness
on the farthest confines of a new country, where even those
who serve the Government live primitively. He longed to
stay in England and take his ease, but funds were even
lower than they usually were with him. Still, he shrank
from exposing his daughter to the discomforts he was at
last commencing to find it hard to bear, and she had but to
speak a word and remain, with all that any young woman
could reasonably look for, the mistress of Holtcar Grange.

44

THE NEW COUNTRY 45

Though he roused himself with an effort he felt that his
conversation was even less brilliant than usual and that his
companion noticed it. It was certain that she smiled when
she surprised him glancing somewhat anxiously across the
lawn.

"You have quite decided on going out?" she asked.

"I have," said Coulthurst simply. "In ten days from
to-day. The commission's in my pocket — I was uncom-
monly glad to get it."

} "Still," said Mrs. Esmond, "the pay cannot be very high,
and it must be a wild country."

"It is quite sufficient for a lonely man, and now

Grace "

'• He stopped abruptly, a trifle flushed in face, and his com-
panion smiled at him.

"Yes," she said, "I understand, and if it happens as
we both wish I shall be content. Geoffrey has been a good
son, but I could not expect to keep him always to myself
— and I would rather it should be Grace than any one else."

"Thank you!" said Coulthurst simply. "Whether I
have done right in allowing her to come here I do not
know. In any case, I never suspected what might happen
until a month ago. Then I was a trifle astonished, but the
mischief was done."

Mrs. Esmond laughed. "You might have expressed it
more happily, though it is perhaps only natural that there
was a day or two when I would not have found fault with
you."

Coulthurst said nothing further, but his thoughts were
busy. He knew better than most men what life in the
newer lands is, and he had no desire that Grace should
share it with him. What she thought of Esmond he did
not know ; but the latter had told him what he thought of
her, and his mother was, it seemed, content with the choice
he had made. A good deal depended on the girl's fancy.

They had turned again when she came towards them

46 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

across the lawn as though she did not see them, until, hear-
ing their footsteps, she stopped abruptly. Nobody spoke
for a moment or two, but she felt their eyes upon her, and
the crimson grew deeper in her cheek as she turned to the
elder lady.

"I see you know," she said, with a little tremor in her
voice. "You will forgive me if he feels hurt over it — but
I felt I could not. Geoffrey, of course, is "

The major groaned inwardly when she stopped, and there
was a sudden slight but perceptible change in his com-
panion. Her face lost its usual gentleness, and became for
a moment not hard or vindictive, but impressively grave.

"I am glad — because he is my only son — that you had
the courage to do the right thing — now," she said.

Grace flashed a swift glance at her, and the colour showed
a trifle more plainly in her face, but, saying nothing, she
hastily turned away. Coulthurst stood stiffly still, evi-
dently perplexed at something in the attitude of both, until
Mrs. Esmond looked at him.

"I am disappointed," she said.

Coulthurst raised his hand in protest. "It is very good
of you to say so, but, while she is my daughter and I am
naturally a trifle proud of her, the advantages would in one
sense have been so much in her favour "

"I don't think you apprehend me. These affairs seldom
fall out as one would wish them, which is, perhaps, now
and then fortunate for all concerned. It is Grace I am dis-
appointed with."

Coulthurst smiled somewhat grimly. "I'm by no means
sure that I do understand, but one thing, at least, is plain :
she has made her own choice and must abide by it."

It was ten minutes later, and Mrs. Esmond had left him,
when he came upon Grace sitting where a shrubbery swept
round a bend of the lawn. She looked at him deprecat-
ingly.

THE NEW COUNTRY 47

"I am very sorry — but it was out of the question — quite/'
she said.

Coulthurst made a little gesture of resignation, for if he
seldom foresaw a difficulty where others would have done so,
he, at least, made no futile protest when it had to be faced.

"I suppose," he said, "you realize what you have turned
your back upon to-dav?"

"Still, I felt I had to do so."

Coulthurst checked a groan. "Then, since you presum-
ably know your own mind, there is nothing more to be
said. You will be ready to come out to the Northwest
with me?"

Grace rose, and slipped her hand through his arm.
"Father," she said, "I'm sorry — dreadfully sorry. I must
be a horrid responsibility."

Coulthurst smiled, somewhat ruefully. " So am I ! No
doubt we will worry along as we have already done ; but it
is a very hard country we are going to."

It was scarcely a sufficient expression of what he felt,
but Coulthurst had his strong points, and his daughter
t knew it was very unlikely he would ever allude to the sub-
ject again. There were, however, as usual, guests at Holt-
car Grange just then, and they had formed a tolerably
correct opinion as to what was happening. It was also
natural that they should discuss it, and on that evening two
matrons and the lady who had taken Grace's part on a
previous occasion expressed their views concerning the
conduct of the latter.

"The girl led him on shamefully," said one of them.
"That was evident to everybody, and one would have fan-
cied the reason was equally so — though, of course, we know
now it wasn't the right one."

Grace's advocate appeared reflective, and, as it happened,
her opinion was usually listened to. "I have watched the
girl, and she is interesting as a study," she said. "I am,
of course, not infallible, but it seems to me from what I

48 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

have heard of the major that she has inherited his disre-
gard of consequences. Coulthurst, one would conclude, is
not a man who ever saved himself or others trouble by an-
ticipating anything."

One of her companions signified concurrence. "And the
fact that the opportunity for a flirtation with the most
eligible man in the vicinity appealed to her natural arro-
gance accounts for the rest?"

"Not exactly, though you are in a measure right. I
should rather call it love of influence, for, though I'm not
sure Grace Coulthurst realizes it, one could fancy that the
opportunity for dominating a man of position, or more
especially character, would prove almost irresistible to her.
Still, one must discriminate between that and the not un-
usual fondness for love-making."

"The distinction is a little difficult. It seems to lead to
much the same thing."

The previous speaker, who was a woman of discernment,
shook her head. "There is a difference," she said. "The
girl has, I think, a personality — by which I do not alto-
gether mean physical attributes — that is apt to appeal to a
man of character, though I almost fancy she will sooner or
later be sorry she was ever endued with it. There is a good
deal that is admirable in Grace Coulthurst, but unfortun-
ately, in one respect, perhaps, not — quite — enough."

It was not evident that the rest altogether understood
her, but Mrs. Esmond appeared just then, and the subject
was changed abruptly.

In the meanwhile there were at least three people who
would have found no fault with Major Coulthurst's descrip-
tion of Western Canada. Having discovered somewhat to
their astonishment that the population of Quebec and
Montreal was already quite sufficient, and that strangers
without means were not greatly desired in either city, these
three had, in accordance with Ingleby's previous purpose,
started West again, and on the fifth day sat spiritlessly in

THE NEW COUNTRY 49

a Colonist car as, with whistle screaming, the long train
rolled into sight of a little desolate station on the Albertan
prairie.

All the way from Winnipeg a dingy greyness had
shrouded the apparently interminable levels, which lay
parched and white beneath an almost intolerable heat, while
the lurching cars swung through a rolling cloud of dust
that blurred the dreary prospect. Now, as they were slow-
ing down, grimy faces were thrust from the windows and
perspiring men leaned out from the platforms, gazing down
the track and inquiring with expletives why they were
stopping again.

Hetty Leger, however, sat languidly still, where the hot
draught that blew in through an open window scattered
the dust upon her. Her face was damp, and unpleasantly
gritty, for the water in the tank had long run out. Her
head ached, as did every bone in her body, for Colonist cars
are not fitted as the Pullmans are, and she had with in-
different success for four nights essayed to sleep on a maple
shelf which pulled out from the roof above when one wanted
it. She had certainly hired a mattress, but its inch or two
of thickness had scarcely disguised the hardness of the
polished wood beneath it; and although the cost of it and
the little green curtain had made a serious inroad on the
few dollars left in her scanty purse they had not solved
the problem of dressing; while the atmosphere of a close-
packed Colonist car when the big lamps are lighted in hot
weather is a thing to shudder at. It is also, in view of the
fact that most of the passengers dispense with curtains,
somewhat embarrassing to rise in the morning and wait
amidst a group of half-dressed men and women for a place
in the cupboard at the rear of the ear where ablutions may
at least be attempted when there is any water in the tank.

Presently, however, a big bell commenced to toll, and the
jolting of the air-brakes flung her forward in her seat, while
in another few moments the long cars stopped, and the

50 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

conductor pushed his way through the perspiring passen-
gers who surged towards the vestibule.

"They've had a big washout up the track," he said.
"You can light out and admire the scenery for two hours,
anyway, if you feel like it."

Hetty looked round, but could see nothing of her brother
or Ingleby. She had seen very little to admire at other
prairie stations ; but anything seemed better than the close
heat of the car, and when the vestibule was clear at last
she went out languidly and stepped down upon the track.

Beside it rose two desolate frame houses, a crude struc-
ture of galvanized iron, and a towering water tank, but that
was all, and beyond them the gleaming rails ran straight
to the rim of the empty wilderness. Nothing moved on its
interminable levels; the dingy sky seemed suffused with
heat, and along the track a smell that was stronger than
the reek of creosote rose from the baked and fissured earth.
The withered grass was of the same tint as the earth save
where the clay on the bank of a coulee showed a harsh red,
and the vast stretch of dusty prairie seemed steeped in the
one dreary grey. This, she reflected with a sinking heart,
was the land of promise to which she had journeyed five
thousand miles to find a home; but, though the track was
suggestively littered with empty provision cans, there was
as yet very little sign of the milk and honey.

Hetty was usually sympathetic, but the sight of the
frowsy passengers and unwashed children wandering aim-
lessly round the station aroused in her a curious impatience
that was tinged with disgust that hot afternoon. She
wanted to be alone, and noticing an ugly trestle bridge a
mile or so ahead followed the rails until she came to it. A
river swirled beneath it; but it, too, was utterly devoid of
beauty, for the banks of it were crumbling sun-baked clay,
and it swept by a dingy, slatey green, thick with the mud
brought down by the Eockies' glaciers. However, it looked
cool, and she climbed down until she found a place she could

THE NEW COUNTRY 51

stand on, and laved her arms and face in it. Then, as it
happened, a piece of the crumbling clay broke away, and
one foot slipped in above the ankle, while the skirt of her
thin dress trailed in the water too. It was a trifling mis-
hap, but Hetty was overwrought, and when she had climbed
back and taken off and emptied the little shoe she sat down
on the dusty grass and sobbed bitterly. She felt insignifi-
cant and lonely in that great empty land, and its desola-
tion crushed her spirits.

She did not know how long she sat there, but at last
there were footsteps behind her, and she coloured a little
and strove to draw the shoeless foot beneath the hem of
the dripping skirt when she saw Ingleby smiling down upon
her. Then she remembered that the sleeves of the thin
blouse were still rolled back, and the crimson grew plainer
in her wet cheeks as with a little adroit movement she shook
them down. Ingleby smiled again, in a complacent, broth-
erly fashion which she found strangely exasperating just
then, and sitting down beside her took one of her hot hands.

" Crying, Hetty ? That will never do," he said.

Hetty glanced at him covertly. His face was compas-
sionate, but there was rather toleration than concern in it,
and she pulled her hand away from him.

"I wasn't — at least, not exactly," she said. "And if
I was, it was the weather — and why don't you go away?"

Ingleby smiled again, in a manner which while kind
enough had yet a lack of comprehension in it that made
her still angrier.

"People don't generally cry about the weather," he said.

"Well," said the girl sharply, "some of them say things
they shouldn't. I heard you — in a crowded car, too."

She stopped abruptly, as she remembered the scanty
privacy of the Colonist train, and that she was supposed
to have been asleep about the time Ingleby had allowed his
temper to get the better of him. He, however, only laughed.

52 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Hetty," he said, "what is the matter? I always thought
you brave, and I have almost a right to know."

"I think you have," and there was a little flash in Hetty's
eyes. "It was you who brought us here, and this is a hor-
rible country. It frightens me."

Ingleby was a trifle perplexed, and showed it. He had
known Hetty Leger for four or five years, and had never
seen her in a mood of the kind before. It also occurred to
him, as it did every now and then, that, although she was
not to be compared with Miss Coulthurst, Hetty was in her
own way beautiful. Just then a pretty plump arm showed
beneath the unfastened sleeve of the thin blouse, and the
somewhat dusty hair with the tint of pale gold in it, lying
low on the white forehead, matched the soft blue eyes,
though there was a hint of more character than is usually
associated with her type in Hetty's white and pink face.
Ingleby noticed all this with impersonal appreciation, as
something which did not greatly concern him.

"Well," he said, "I'm sorry, and by no means sure I'm
very much pleased with the country myself; but I don't
quite see what else I could have done in the circumstances.
Still, it hurts me to see you unhappy."

Hetty turned to him impulsively. "Never mind me.
I'm an ungrateful little — beast. That's the fact, and you
needn't try to say anything nice — I know I am. If it
hadn't been for you Tom would have been in prison now."

Ingleby looked out across the endless dusty levels. "I'm
sure the country must be a good deal better than it looks —
when one gets used to it," he said a trifle dubiously. "Any-
way, we are three to one against it, and needn't be afraid
of it while we stick together. That is the one thing we
must make up our minds to do."

"There was a time when you didn't seem very sure you
wanted Tom and me."

"Didn't you feel that I was right a little while ago?"

Hetty said nothing for a space. She was quick-witted,

THE NEW COUNTRY 53

and not infrequently understood her companion rather
better than he understood himself, while recollecting the
half -shy delicacy which occasionally characterized him she
felt a trifle comforted. It was not, she fancied, to please
himself that he had been willing to leave her behind, and
she watched him covertly as he, too, sat silent, gazing at the
prairie with thoughtful eyes. He was not, she was quite
aware, as clever as her brother, and he certainly had his
shortcomings — in fact, a good many of them; but for all
that there was something about him which, so far as she
was concerned, set him apart from any other man. Exactly
what it was she persuaded herself that she did not know,
or, at least, made a brave attempt to do so, for it was evi-
dent that he had only a frank, brotherly regard for her.
Still, the silence was getting uncomfortable, and she flung
a question at him.

"How much have we left?" she asked.

Ingleby laughed, somewhat ruefully. "Eight dollars, I
believe. Still, we shall cross the Rockies to-morrow, and
start at once to heap up riches. We are certainly going to
do it, as others have; and you will never be frightened any
more."

Hetty had a stout heart of her own, but nevertheless she
was glad of the reassuring grasp he laid upon her shouldjr
as she looked out across the muddy river and desolate, grey-
white plain. However, she smiled at him, and once more
they sat silent until a curious and unexpected thing hap-
pened.

Far away on the rim of the prairie there was a stirring
of the haze, and a dim smear of pinewoods grew out of the
dingy vapour. Then a vista of rolling hills rose to view,
and was lost in mist again, until high above them all a
great serrated rampart of never-melting snow gleamed
ethereally against a strip of blue. It was a brief, bewilder-
ing vision, sudden as the shifting of a gorgeous transforma-
tion scene, and then the vapours rolled down again; but

54 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

they felt that they had looked -upon an unearthly glory.
Hetty turned to her companion with a little gasp.

"Oh," she said, "it was wonderful!"

"It was real, at least," said Inglehy. "Your first glimpse
of the country to which I have brought you. I think we
shall be happy there — and we will remember afterwards
that we saw it together."

Again the little pink tinge crept into Hetty's cheek, but
she said nothing, and Ingleby's glance rested on the shoe,
which he had not noticed before.

"Hetty," he said severely, "do you want to catch cold?
What is that doing there ?"

Hetty essayed to draw her foot farther beneath the hem
of the dusty skirt, and the colour grew a trifle plainer in
her face ; but Ingleby made a little reproachful gesture, and
taking up the shoe rubbed it with his handkerchief.

"Now," he said, "I'm going to the bridge. Put it on !"

He turned away ; but the leather was stiff with water, and
Hetty struggled fruitlessly with the buttons, and when she
rejoined him Ingleby noticed that she was walking some-
what awkwardly.

"Stand still a minute," he said. "You can't limp back
along the track like that."

He dropped on one knee, and Hetty turned her face
aside when he looked up again.

"It is such a pretty little foot," he said.

Then as they went back together they met Leger on the
trestle. He said nothing, but though he endeavoured to
hide it there was concern in his sallow face.

VI

HALL SEWELL

HP HE afternoon was clear and cool, but bright sunlight
filled a glade among the towering pines which creep
close np to the western outskirts of Vancouver City. They
are very old and great of girth, and though here and there a
path or carriage drive has been hewn through the strip
of primeval wilderness the municipal authorities have been
wise enough to attempt no improvement upon what nature
has done for them, and Stanley Park remains a pleasance
whose equal very few cities possess. It is scented am-
brosially with the odours of balsam and cedar ; deep silence
fills the dim avenues between the colonnades of towering
trunks; and from every opening one looks out upon blue
water and coldly gleaming snow.

On the afternoon in question the stillness was rudely
broken by a murmur of voices, unmodulated and sharp with
an intonation which sounds especially out of place in the
wilderness, though it is heard there often enough, from the
redwoods of Oregon to where Alaskan pines spring from
ten feet of snow. A crowd of people were scattered about
the glade, and while some were dressed in "store clothes"
and a few in coarse blue jean the eyes of all were turned
towards the stump of a great cedar, sawn off a man's height
above the ground, which formed a natural platform for a
speaker whose address had astonished most of them. In-
gleby and Leger lay a little apart from the rest, where the
sunlight fell faintly warm upon the withered needles, while
Hettv was seated near them upon a fallen fir, displeasure

55

56 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

in her eyes and her lips set together. Her eyebrows also
seemed unusually straight, as they often did when she was
angry, and that gave to her delicately pretty face a curious
appearance of severity one would scarcely have expected to
find there. She was dressed tastefully, for she earned a
sufficiency as a boarding-house waitress.

Ingleby, who lay nearest her, looked up at her with a
little smile.

"You would make rather a striking picture just now,
Hetty," he said. "That is a most attractive frown. I
don't know where you got it, but taken together with your
attitude it's — I can't think of a better comparison — almost
Roman."

Hetty glanced at him sharply. Her education had not
been very comprehensive, and she scarcely understood the
allusion; but Ingleby, who had made it at random, was
nevertheless in a measure right, for there is a recurrent
type of feminine beauty, not exactly common, but to be
met with among women of her station in the north of Eng-
land, while they are young at least, which approaches the
classical. Hetty might have posed just then as a virgin
sitting with turned-down thumb.

"Well," she said, "I'm vexed with you and Tom, as
well as with that man. I wish he hadn't come now when we
are nice and comfortable and you are both earning good
wages — at least when the steamers come in."

Ingleby shook his head reproachfully. "You have spoiled
it," he said. "Hasn't she, Tom? A young woman who
frowns in that imperial fashion talking of wages!"

Leger only laughed as, turning over among the fir-
needles, he filled his pipe again ; but Hetty was still a trifle
angry.

"Of course, I don't understand you," she said. "I never
do, but it's a good thing I've more sense than either of you.
Now, you know what came of listening to speeches of that
.kind in England, and you're doing the same thing again.

HALL SEWELL 57

I've no sympathy with that man. Everybody has enough to
eat and looks contented and comfortable. Why does he
come here Avorrying them ?"

Leger smiled. "I'm not snre that the contentment of
ignorance is the blessing some people would like us to
believe. You see, when one doesn't know what he's en-
titled to he's apt to be satisfied with a' good deal less, while
when men like Hall Sewell point out that you don't get
half as much as you ought to you are apt to believe them."

Ingleby laughed, though, as Sewell's writings had stirred
him to intense appreciation, even in England, he was not
altogether pleased with the little twinkle in his comrade's
eyes. He was quick to fire with enthusiasm, while it oc-
curred to him that Leger was a trifle too addicted to look-
ing at both sides of a question, and occasionally admitting
the weak points of his own case with dry good-humour. He
had also a shrewd suspicion that Leger was a cleverer man
than himself.

"Well," he said, looking at Hetty, "if you are content-
to carry plates to saw-mill hands and wharf-labourers, it's
more than I am to see you do so."

"Why shouldn't I?" and Hetty, who flashed a covert
glance at him, noticed the tinge of heightened colour in
his face and was not displeased at it. "They are all of
them very civil to me, and the one who can get nothing
to do as a doctor "

"Oh, yes!" said Ingleby curtly, "I've noticed his con-
founded assurance. Every time I see you going round
with his dinner I feel I'd like to poison him."

Leger looked up again with the twinkle in his eyes show-
ing plainer still.

"You haven't answered her, and I'm not sure you can,"
he said. "She put the whole thing in a nutshell when she
asked — why shouldn't she."

Ingleby was silent, but he fidgeted, and Leger grinned.

"Don't you find it a little difficult to cling to aristo-

58 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

cratic prejudices — though I don't know how you became
possessed of them — and believe in democratic theories at
the same time?" he said. "One would fancy they were
bound to run up against each other occasionally."

Just then an urchin with a satchel on his back came
along.

"Hall SewelPs latest speeches," he said. "Fourth edi-
tion of 'The New Brotherhood' and 'The Grip of Capital/ "

"Give me them all," said Ingleby. "How much do you
want?"

"A quarter," said the lad, handing him several flimsy
pamphlets, and while Hetty glanced at him severely Leger
laughed.

"Twenty-five cents!" he said. "It would have pur-
chased a packet of caramels for Hetty."

"We might manage both," said Ingleby. "I'm sorry
I didn't think of it earlier, Hetty. But you haven't yet
told me your opinion of the man himself."

Hetty glanced at the man upon the fire-stump. He was
dressed as a workman in blue jean, which seemed to her
a piece of affectation, since when workmen of that city
take their recreation they usually do so attired in excellent
clothing; but he had a lithe, well-proportioned figure, and
it became him, though neither his face, which was bronzed
by exposure, nor his hands were quite in keeping with it.
It was a forceful face, with keen, dark eyes in it, but the
mouth was hidden by the long moustache. Hall Sewell was,
in his own sphere, a famous man whose printed speeches
had been read with appreciation in Europe, and he had not
long ago played a leading part in a great labour dispute.
He had just finished speaking and another man was some-
what apologetically addressing the assembled populace.

Hetty, who surveyed him critically, shook her head. "If
you buy me any sweets now I'll throw them away," she said.
"Well, he's a good-looking man."

HALL SEWELL 59

"Oh," said Ingleby. "He's good-looking! Can't yon
get beyond that, Hetty?"

Hetty pursed her lips np reflectively. "Well, why
shouldn't he be? It's a pleasure to see a man of that
kind. There are so few of them. Still, I'll try to go a
little further. Of course, he's clever. At least, everybody
says so, but there's something wanting. I think he's weak."

"Weak !" said Ingleby indignantly. "You're wide of the
mark this time, Hetty. I've read every line he has had
printed, and any one could feel the uncompromising
strength in it. They've put him in prison and tried to buy
him, but nothing could keep a man of that kind from de-
livering his message."

Hetty still pursed her lips up, and when she spoke again
she somewhat astonished Ingleby.

"If I were a little cleverer and richer I think that I
could. That is, of course, if I wanted to," she said.

Leger looked up with a little whimsical smile. "I hope
she isn't right, but she now and then blunders upon a
truth that is hidden from our wisdom. Delilah is, after all,
a type, you see, and one can't help a fancy that she has
figured even more often than is recorded in history. Go
on, Hetty."

Hetty put her head on one side. "I never could remem-
ber very much history; but that man's vain, vainer than
most of you," she said. "A girl above him who pretended
to believe in him could twist him round her finger."

"Above him?" said Ingleby.

Hetty looked at him curiously. "Yes. You know what
everybody means by that, and it's generally a girl of that
kind that men with your notions fall in love with. It's
because you want so much more than is good for you that
you have such notions."

"Considering that she is a girl and by no means clever,
Hetty's reflections occasionally, at least, display an aston-

60 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

ishing comprehension," said Leger. "I really don't mind
admitting it, though I am her brother."

Ingleby said nothing, though he felt uncomfortable.
He was fond of Hetty in a brotherly fashion, but as he
had never supposed her to be indued with any intellect
worth mentioning, her occasional flashes of penetration
were almost disconcerting. The last one was certainly so,
for there were two people of diametrically opposed opin-
ions whom he respected above all others: one was Hall
•Sewell the reformer, and the other Major Coulthurat's
daughter. He was glad of the opportunity for changing the
subject when the man who had been speaking stopped a
moment and looked at the crowd.

"I guess I'm through, and you have been patient, boys,"
he said. "Hall will be quite willing to answer any reason-
able questions. I'll get down."

There was a little good-humoured laughter, and a man
who stood forward turned to the assembly.

"Everybody knows Jake Townson, and there's no wick-
edness in him. He's a harmless crank," he said. "What I
want to ask Hall Sewell is who's paying him to go round
making trouble among people who have no use for it or
him? It's a straight question."

There was a little growl of disgust as well as sardonic
laughter, and while one or two angry men moved towards
the speaker the man with the dark eyes stood up suddenly.

"Let him alone, boys. We don't want to use our enemies'
methods, and I'm quite willing to answer him," he said.
"Nobody has paid me a dollar for what I've tried to do
for the cause of brotherhood and liberty, but I was offered
a thousand to betray it not a month ago."

"Name the men who did it," cried somebody.

"I will," said Sewell, "when I consider the time is ripe
— they may count on that, but in the meanwhile you will
have to take my word for it. So far, I've been found where
I was wanted — and that as our friend suggests was gener-

HALL SEWELL 61

ally where there was trouble — but I never took five cents
for reward or fee."

There was a murmur of approbation, as well as in-
credulity, and then a cry broke through it.

"How'd you worry along then? A man has got to live."

Sewell held his hands up, and though small and well-
shaped they were scarred and brown.

"What I want — and it's very little — I can earn with the
shovel and the drill. I've given your man his answer, but
I'm going farther."

There was a clamour from one part of the crowd. "He's
an insect. We've no use for him ! Let up, Hall's talking.
We're here to hear him !"

"What did I get for my pains?" said Sewell. "That's
what the question comes to, and I'll tell you frankly, since,
until we or our children bring in the new era, if s all that
the man has to expect who believes this world can and ought
to be made better. I've been ridden over by U. S. cavalry,
and beaten by patrolmen's clubs. I've been hounded out of
cities where I lawfully earned my bread, and sand-bagged
by hired toughs. That would be a little thing if I were the
only victim, but you know — you can read it in your papers
almost any day — what happens to the men who have the
grit to work as well as to hope for the dawn of better day9
for down- trodden humanity. You're to wait for it — on
the other side of Jordan — your teachers say. Boys, we
want it here and now, and it's coming, a little nearer every
day. You have got to believe that, and when the outlook
grows black get a tighter clinch upon your faith. Was it a
shadow and a fancy that the men died for who went down
in every struggle for the last ten years? — we needn't go
back farther. Right across this prosperous continent youll
find their graves — men shot and sabred, strung to bridges
and telegraph poles. Boys, we've been waiting — waiting a
long while "

He broke off abruptly, for a little, stolid park-warden

62 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

and an equally unimpressed official of the Vancouver police
pushed their way through the crowd.

"I guess," said the former, "you'll have to light out of
this. You can't hold no meetings here."

The crowd was a Canadian one, good-humouredly toler-
ant, respectful of constituted authority, and, what .was more
to the purpose, reasonably contented with their lot. They
were also, as usual, somewhat deficient in the quick enthus-
iasm which is common across the frontier. Had ample
time been afforded him the orator might have got hold of
them and impressed upon them a due comprehension of
their wrongs, but a good many of them were by no means
sure that they had very much to complain of as yet. Still,
there were angry expostulations.

"Have you any ground for preventing my speaking
here ?" Sewell asked.

"Yes, sir," said the warden. "I guess we have. It's
down in the park charter. You can't peddle those papers
either. Call your boys in."

"The men who made those laws, as usual, made them to
suit themselves."

"Well," said the warden, "I guess that don't matter
now. There they are. All you have to do is to keep them,
and nobody's going to worry you."

There was an embarrassing silence for a moment or two,
for everybody felt the tension and realized that the position
was rife with unpleasant possibilities ; but the stolid warden
stood eyeing the crowd unconcernedly, and, as usual, the
inertia of British officialdom conquered. Sewell made a
little whimsical gesture of resignation, and raised his hand.

"I'm afraid we'll have to break up, boys. There's noth-
ing to be gained for anybody by making trouble now," he
said. "If we can hire a big store of any kind I'll talk to
you to-morrow."

He sprang down from the stump, the crowd melted away,
and Hetty laughed as she glanced at her companions.

HALL SEWELL 63

"That man has really a good deal more sense than some
people with his notions seem to have," she said.

Ingleby shook his head at her. "You mean people who
pull gates down on Sunday afternoons ?" he asked. " Still,
I scarcely think it was to save himself trouble he told them
to go home, and nobody could have expected very much
S}Tnpathy from the men who listened to him. He's wast-
ing his time on them — they're too well fed. What do you
think, Tom?"

Leger, who did not answer him for a moment, glanced
thoughtfully through an opening between the stately trunks
towards the far-off gleam of snow.

"This Province," he said drily, "is a tolerably big one,
and from what I've heard they may want a man of his kind
in the Northern ranges presently. It isn't the supinely
contented who face the frost and snow there, and the Crown
mining regulations don't seem to appeal to the men who
stake their lives on finding a little gold. They appear to
be even less pleased with those who administer them."

VII

HETTY BEAES THE COST

T T was towards the end of the arduous day, and Ingleby
was glad of the respite the breakage of a chain cargo-
sling afforded him. The white side of a big Empress liner
towered above the open-fronted shed, and a string of box
cars stood waiting outside the sliding doors behind him.
A swarm of men in blue jean were hurrying across the
wharf behind clattering trucks laden with the produce of
China and Japan, for the liner had been delayed a trifle by
bad weather, and the tea and silk and sugar were wanted
in the East. Already a great freight locomotive was wait-
ing on the side track, and, as Ingleby knew, the long train
must be got away before the Atlantic express went out that
evening. He had been promoted to a post of subordinate
authority a few weeks earlier, and both he and Leger were,
in the meanwhile, at least contented with their lot, for the
great railway company treated its servants liberally.

There was, however, nothing that he could do for a
minute or two, and he leaned against a tier of silk bales
with a bundle of dispatch labels and a slip of paper in his
, hand, while Leger sat upon the truck behind him. He had,
though it was no longer exactly his business, been carrying
sugar bags upon his back most of that afternoon, partly to
lessen the labour of Leger who had not his physique, and
now the white crystals glittered in his hair and clung,
smeared with dust, to his perspiring face. His sleeves were
rolled back to the elbow, showing his brown arms, which had
grown hard and corded since he came to Canada ; while his

64

HETTY BEARS THE COST 65

coarse blue shirt, which was open at the neck and belted
tight at the waist, displayed as more conventional attire
would not have done the symmetry of a well set-up figure.

"We are still short of a few tea chests," said Leger.
"However, if yon would mark the two lots I've got yonder
we could clear that car for dispatch as soon as the rest
come out."

Ingleby glanced at his slip. "I'll wait until I get the
others. It will keep the thing straighter. There's a good
deal more in sorting cargo than I fancied there could be
until I tried it, and it's remarkably easy to put the stuff
into the wrong car."

, "Then it might be well to keep your eye on those chests
of tea. I can't keep the boys off them. There's another
fellow at them now."

Ingleby swung round, and signed to a perspiring man
who stopped with a truck beside the cases in question.

"Leave that lot alone! It's billed straight through,
express freight, East," he said. "Stick this ticket on the
cases, Tom."

Leger moved away, and Ingleby was endeavouring to
scrape some of the sugar off his person when a man, whom
he recognized as one of the leading citizens of Vancouver,
and several ladies, came down the steamer's gangway.
Then he started and felt his heart throb as his glance rested
on one of them, who, as it happened, looked up just then.
It was evident that she saw him, and he was unpleasantly
sensible that his face was growing hot. There was, he
would have admitted at any other time, no reason for this,
but in the meanwhile it was distinctly disconcerting that
Grace Coulthurst should come upon him in his present
guise, smeared with dust and half-melted sugar. Then he
occupied himself with his cargo slip, for it was in the cir-
cumstances scarcely to be expected that she would vouch-
safe him any recognition.

The longing to see her again, however, became too strong

66 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

for him, and looking up a moment he was conscious of a
blissful astonishment, for she was walking straight towards
him with a smile in her eyes. She seemed to him almost
ethereally dainty in the dust and turmoil of the big cargo
shed, and for the moment he forgot his uncovered arms and
neck, and felt every nerve in him thrill as he took the little
gloved hand she held out. What she had done was not
likely to be regarded as anything very unusual in that
country, where most men are liable to startling vicissi-
tudes of fortune and there are no very rigid social distinc-
tions ; but Ingleby failed to recognize this just then, and it
was not astonishing that he should idealize her for her
courage.

"You are about the last person I expected to meet.
What are you doing here?" she said, with, the little tran-
quil smile that became her well.

Ingleby's heart was throbbing a good deal faster than
usual, but he held himself in hand. Miss Coulthurst was
apparently pleased to see him, but there was an indefinite
something in her serene graciousness which put a check on
him. It was, he felt, perhaps only because she was patri-
cian to her finger-tips that she had so frankly greeted him.
A girl with less natural distinction could, he fancied,
scarcely have afforded to be equally gracious to a wharf-
labourer.

"I am at present loading railway cars with tea and silk,
though I have been carrying sugar bags most of the day,"
he said.

Grace showed no sign of astonishment as she glanced at
his toiling comrades, and, though this was doubtless the
correct attitude for her to assume, Ingleby was, in spite
of his opinions, not exactly pleased until she spoke again.

"Don't you find it rather hard work?" she said. "Of
course, one cannot always choose the occupation one likes
here, but couldn't you find something that would be a little
more — profitable ?"

HETTY BEARS THE COST 67

Ingleby laughed. "I'm afraid I can't," he said. "In
this city the one passport to advancement appears to be
the ability to play in the band, and I was, unfortunately,
never particularly musical. Still, there is no reason why I
should trouble you with my affairs. I wonder if I might
venture to ask you how you came to be here ?"

"It is quite simple. Major Coulthurst was appointed
Gold Commissioner in one of the mining districts, and I
came out with him; but he has been sent to an especially
desolate post in the Northern ranges, and I am staying with
friends in the city for a week or two. Then I am going to
join him."

She stopped a moment, and then looked at him reflec-
tively. "Why don't you go North and try your fortune
at prospecting, too? They have been finding a good deal
of gold lately in the Green Eiver country where my
father is."

It had seemed to Ingleby almost unnatural that he should
be so quietly discussing his affairs with the girl he had last
seen nearly six thousand miles away. This was not the
kind of meeting he would have anticipated ; but as she made
the suggestion a little thrill once more ran through him, for
he had heard that the district in question was a great deso-
lation, and it almost seemed that she desired his company.
However, he shook off the notion as untenable, for there
would be, he knew, a distinction between a placer miner
and the Gold Commissioner's daughter even in that land
of rock and snow.

"I have thought of it," he said. "Some day I may go,
but it is at the far end of the province, and for one who
works on a steamboat wharf the getting there is a risky
venture. I don't suppose everybody finds gold."

"I'm afraid they don't, and the cost of transporting
provisions is a serious matter to those who fail. In fact,
some of them have been giving my father trouble. They

68 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

appear to lay the blame of everything on the mining regu-
lations."

She stopped and glanced at him with a little smile.
"From what I remember of your views, you would no
doubt be inclined to agree with them."

Ingleby laughed, though it was pleasant to be told that
she remembered anything he had said. "I really fancy I
have learned a little sense in Canada, and I am not going
to inflict my crude notions upon yon again. Still, there is
a question I should like to ask. Did Mr. Esmond of Holt-
car — recover ?"

Grace noticed the sudden intentness of his tone, and
looked at him curiously. "Of course. In fact, he got
better in a week or two, and I think behaved very gener-
ously. The police could not induce him to give them any
information about the men who injured him."

Ingleby started, and the girl saw the relief in his face.

"I wonder," he said, "if you ever heard who they were
supposed to be?"

Grace turned a trifle and gazed at him steadily, though
there was now a little flash in her eyes.

"You," she said, with incisive coldness, "were one of
them?"

Ingleby grew hot beneath her gaze, for he felt that all
the pride and prejudices of her station were arrayed against
him. "You will remember the form of my question. I
was supposed to be one of them — but that was all," he
said.

Grace's face softened, and she glanced at her companions,
who, after waiting a little while, were just leaving the shed.
"Of course," she said, "I should have known it was absurd
to fancy that you could do anything of that kind."

"I am afraid I have kept you," said Ingleby. "Perhaps
I should not have abused your kindness by letting you stop
at all, but the desire to see you was too strong for me. I

HETTY BEARS THE COST 69

wonder whether even you would have dared to do as mucK
had it been in England?"

There was a faint flush in the girl's cheek, but she smiled
as she held out her hand.

"I scarcely think we need go into that, and I can't keep
the others waiting any longer," she said. "Perhaps I shall
meet you in the Green Kiver country."

She swept away with a soft swish of dainty garments,
and Ingleby, whose face grew curiously intent as he watched
her, climbed the slanting gangway to the deck of the liner
when she disappeared. From there he could see the white
tops of the ranges gleaming ethereally as they stretched
back mountain behind mountain towards the lonely North.
The Green River country lay far beyond them, and there
were leagues of tangled forest, and thundering rivers, to
be crossed ; but that day the untrodden snow he gazed upon
seemed to beckon him, and a sudden longing to set out
upon the long trail grew almost irresistible. There was
gold in the wilderness, and with enough of it a man might
aspire to anything, even the hand of a Crown Commis-
sioner's daughter.

Then the winch beside him clattered, and he shook off
the fancies as a fresh stream of bales and cases slid down
the gangway. Whatever the future might have in store,
there were several more hours of arduous work in front of
him then. One of them had passed when Leger came hast-
ily up to him.

"I suppose you got those last few cases?" he said.

Ingleby started. "I'm afraid I never remembered them
until this moment. Have they pulled the car out, Tom?"

"It's not there, anyway. I fancied you had made the
lot up. Somebody has put those cases in."

While they looked at one another the tolling of a loco-
motive bell broke through the clatter of the trucks, and
Ingleby sped towards the door of the shed with Leger close
behind him. When they reached it the hoot of a whistle

70 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

came ringing down the track, and they saw the great loco-
motive vanish amidst the piles of lumber outside a big
sawmill, with the long cars lurching through the smoke
behind it. Ingleby said nothing then, but turned back into
the shed with his lips set and questioned several men
before he looked at Leger.

"Nobody seems to know whether they put that tea into
the through East car or not, and it's no use being sorry
now we didn't see it done," he said. "The sooner we have
a word with the freight-traffic agent the better."

The gentleman in question, had, however, very little con-
solation to offer them.

"The fast freight has got to make Kamloops ahead of
the Atlantic express," he said. "She's not going to be
held up more than ten minutes there, and they'll have the
mountain loco ready to rush her up the loops and over the
Selkirks. I'll send a wire along, but so long as the road is
clear it's going to be more than any man's place is worth
to side-track that train for freight checking."

Ingleby's face grew anxious. "Well," he said, "what is
to be done?"

"Nothing!" said the traffic manager. "If there's any-
thing wrong with your sorting you'll probably hear about
it in a week or so."

They went out of the office, and Ingleby turned to his
comrade.

"I'm afraid we'll be adrift again before very long, and
while I wish you had seen nobody moved those cases, it's
my fault," he said. "There's another thing I must mention
so that you may realize all you owe me. That was Miss
Coulthurst of Holtcar to whom I was talking, though, of
course, I should have been attending to my business in-
stead, and from what she told me it seems that I needn't
have brought you and Hetty out here at all. Esmond got
better rapidly, and could not even be induced to prosecute."

Leger smiled. "Well," he said, "I'm uncommonly glad

HETTY BEARS THE COST 71

to hear it ; and in regard to the other question neither of us
has any intention of blaming you. So far, we have been a
good deal better off than we probably should ever have
been in England."

Nothing further was said about the affair, though both of
them devoted more than a little anxious thought to it, until
one morning they were summoned before the head wharf-
inger.

"They're raising Cain in the office about a consignment
of tea billed through urgent to the East that's gone down
the Soo Line into the States," he said. "I guess I've no
more use for either of you."

"I can't grumble," said Ingleby, who had almost ex-
pected this. "Still I should like to point out that only
one of us is responsible."

"No," said Leger. "As a matter of fact, there were
two, and if there hadn't been it would have come to the
same thing, anyway."

The wharfinger nodded. "Well," he said, "I'd keep
you if I could, but after the circus that's going on about the
thing it's out of the question. I guess I'd try the Green
River diggings if I were you."

They went out together, and when Ingleby was about to
speak Leger checked him with a gesture. " I think I know
what you mean to say — but there's another question to con-
sider," he said. "Trade's slack in the city just now, and
taking it all round I fancy that man's advice is good. If
we can induce Hetty to stay here we'll try the new mining
country."

In different circumstances Ingleby would have been
exultant at the prospect, but as it was he recognized his
responsibility. It was, however, late that evening before
they were able to lay the state of affairs before Hetty, and
Ingleby was almost astonished at the quietness with which
she listened.

"Well," she said, "there's no use worrying about it now.

72 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

rAll you have to do is to try the mines. The man who came
down with the gold yesterday said they were offering five
and six dollars to anybody who would work on some of the
claims."

"But you don't seem to realize that we should have to
leave you behind," said Leger.

Hetty laughed, and flashed a covert glance at Ingleby.
"No," she said, "I'm coming with you."

The two men looked at each other, and Leger protested.
"Hetty," he said, "it's out of the question. You couldn't
face the snow and frost, and I don't even know how we
could get you there. There are forests one can scarcely
drag a pack-horse through, as well as rivers one has to swim
them across, and we should probably have to spend several
weeks on the trail. In fact, it seems to be an appalling
country to get through."

" Go on !" said Hetty drily. "Isn't there anything else ?"

"There are certainly mosquitoes that almost eat you
alive. You know you never could stand mosquitoes !"

"Are they quite as big as bluebottles?" said Hetty.

Leger made a little gesture, and glanced at Ingleby, as
if to ask for support, but though Hetty's brows were as-
suming a portentous straightness she smiled again.

"Walter was anxious to leave me behind once before, so
you needn't look at him," she said. "In fact, there's not
the least use in talking. I'm coming."

Ingleby said nothing. He did not wish to hurt the girl,
though he fancied he knew how hard she would find the
life they must lead in the great desolation into which they
were about to venture. That Grace Coulthurst was going
there did not affect the question, for there could be no com-
parison between the lot of a prospector's sister and that of
the daughter of the Gold Commissioner. Then he saw that
Hetty was watching him.

"Of course you don't want me, Walter," she said.

Ingleby felt his face grow hot. " Hetty," he said simply,

HETTY BEARS THE COST 75

"you ought to know that isn't so. If you must come we
shall be glad to have you, and if you find the life a hard one
you must try to forgive me. If I had known what I was
doing I might have spared you this."

They had decided it all in half an hour, but Inglehy
frowned when he and his comrade were left alone.

"The whole thing hurts me horribly, Tom," he said.
" Of course, we can worry along, and may do well — but you
have read what the country is like — and Hetty "

Leger appeared unusually grave. "It is," he said, "cer-
tainly a little rough on Hetty. She, at least, was not to
blame, but she will have to face the results all the same,
and whatever we have to put up with will be twice as hard
on her."

Ingleby said nothing, for he realized his responsbility.
In compensation for the few minutes he had spent with
Grace Coulthurst, Hetty Leger must drag out months of
privation and peril.

VIII

ON" THE TRAIL

T"\ARKN"ESS was settling down upon the mountains
and the chill of the snow was in the air when Hetty
Leger and Ingleby sat beside a crackling fire. Down in the
great gorge beneath them the white mists were streaming
athwart the climbing pines, and no sound broke the deep
stillness but the restless stamping of the tethered pack-
horses and the soft splash of falling water. Hetty had a
brown blanket rolled about her, and there were hard red
blotches where the mosquitoes had left their virus on the
hand she laid upon it. Leger lay not far away, and his face
was swollen, but Ingleby had escaped almost scatheless, as
some men seem to do, from the onslaughts of the buzzing
legions which had pursued them through the swampy
hollows.

A blackened kettle, a spider — as a frying-pan is usually
termed in that country — and a few plates of indurated fibre
lay about the fire, for the last meal of the day was over,
and it had been as frugal as any one who had not under-
taken twelve hours' toil in that vivifying air would probably
have found it unappetizing. Where resinous wood was
plentiful Ingleby could make a fire, but he could not catch
a trout or shoot a deer. Indeed, a man unaccustomed to
the bush usually finds it astonishingly difficult even to see
one, and provisions were worth a ransom in the auriferous
wilderness into which they were pushing their way. They
had spent several weeks in it now, travelling, where the trail
was unusually good, eight to twelve miles a day, though

74

ON THE TRAIL 75

there were occasions when they made less than half the
distance with infinite difficulty, and Hetty alone knew what
that journey had cost her.

The white peaks that gleamed ethereally high up in the
blue, crystal lakes, and the endless ranks of climbing pines,
scarcely appealed to her as she floundered through tangled
undergrowth and ten-foot fern, or stumbled amidst the
boulders beside thundering rivers. She had lain awake
shivering, with the ill-packed fir twigs galling her weary
body, high up on great hill shoulders, and fared Spartanly
on a morsel of unsavoury salt pork and a handful of flour,
while Ingleby set his lips now and then when he saw the
little forced smile in her jaded face. It was no great con-
solation to reflect that other women in that country had
borne as much and more.

"Walter," she said, "you and Tom are very quiet. I
expect you're tired."

Ingleby smiled, though his heart smote him as he saw
the weariness in her eyes.

"I certainly am," he said. "Still, we can't be half as
worn out as you are. You were limping all the afternoon."

"If I was it was only the boot that hurt me," said Hetty.
"All those loose stones and gravel made it worse, you see.
How many miles have we come to-day?"

"I feel that it must have been forty, but you shall have
a rest to-morrow ; and you don't look as comfortable as you
ought to now. Would you mind standing up a minute?"

Hetty rose, hiding the effort it cost her, and when he had
shaken up the cedar twigs into a softer cushion sank grate-
fully down on them. Then she turned her face aside that
he might not see the little flush that crept into it as he
gravely tucked the coarse brown blanket round her.

"Now," he said, "I think that ought to be a good deal
nicer. You're too patient, Hetty, and I'm almost afraid
we don't take enough care of you."

The girl saw his face in the firelight, and sighed as she

!76 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

noticed the gentleness in it. She knew exactly how far his
concern for her went. Leger noticed it, but his shrewd-
ness failed him now and then.

"He will make somebody a good husband by and by,"
he said. "She will have a good deal to thank you for,
Hetty."

Ingleby smiled with an absence of embarrassment which
had its significance for one of the party.

"There are, after all, a good many advantages attached
to being a single man, and I shall probably have to be
content with them," he said.

"Of course!" said Hetty softly. "It is no use crying
for the moon."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing in particular," and Hetty glanced reflectively
at the fire. "Still, I don't think you would be content
with any girl likely to look at you, and most of us would
like to have a good deal more than we ever get."

Ingleby was a trifle disconcerted, though Hetty had an
unpleasant habit of astonishing him in this fashion, but
Leger laughed.

"It probably wouldn't be good for us to have it. At
least, that is the orthodox view, and, after all, one can
always do without."

"Of course!" said Hetty, with a curious little inflection
in her voice. "Still, it is a little hard now and then.
Isn't it, Walter?"

"Is there any special reason why you should ask me?"

Hetty appeared reflective. "Perhaps there isn't. I
really don't know. Do you hear a sound in the valley,
Tom?"

They listened, and a beat of hoofs came out of the sliding
mists below. For the last week they had met nobody upon
the trail, but now several men and horses were apparently
scrambling up the hillside, for they could hear the gravel

ON THE TRAIL Tt.

rattling away beneath them. The sound grew louder, and
at last a man called to them.

"Lead that beast of yours out of the trail," he said.

Ingleby glanced at his comrade, for the voice was English
and had a little imperious ring in it, and Leger smiled.

"There is no doubt where that man comes from, but I
scarcely think there's Any great need of haste," he said.

"Do you mean to keep us waiting?" the voice rose again
sharply. "It's some of your slouching prospectors, Major.
Get down and cut that beast's tether, trooper."

Ingleby rose and moved out into the trail, and had just
led the pack-horse clear of it when a horseman rode up.
He was dressed in what appeared to be cavalry uniform
and was, Ingleby surmised, that worn by the Northwest
Police, a detachment of which had lately been dispatched
to the new mining districts of the far North. It was also
evident that he held a commission, for the firelight, which
forced it up out of the surrounding gloom, showed the im-
periousness in his face. It also showed Ingleby standing
very straight in front of him with his head tilted back-
wards a trifle. Then there was a jingle of accoutrements
as the young officer, turning half-round in his saddle with
one hand on his hip, glanced backward down the trail.

"Look out for the low branch as you come up, sir," he
said.

Ingleby stood still, nettled by the fashion in which the
man ignored him, for no freighter or prospector would have
passed without at least a friendly greeting, and while he
waited it happened that Leger stirred the fire. A brighter
blaze sprang up and flashed upon the officer's accoutre-
ments and spurs, and then there was a pounding of hoofs,
and a horse reared suddenly in the stream of ruddy light.
The officer wheeled his beast with a warning shout, but
Ingleby had seen the shadowy form in the habit, and seized
the horse's bridle.

!78 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Hold fast!" he said. "There's a nasty drop just out-
side the trail."

Then for a few seconds man and startled horse apparently
went round and round scattering fir needles and rattling
gravel, until the half-broken cayuse yielded and Ingleby
stood still, gasping, with his hand on the bridle, while a
girl who did not seem very much concerned looked down
on him from the saddle.

"You !" she said. "I fancied the voice was familiar. So
you are going to the mines after all ?"

The firelight still flickering redly upon the towering
trunks showed Hetty Leger the curious intentness in In-
gleby's gaze. Then, having done enough to disturb her
peace of mind for that night, at least, it sank a trifle, and
as two more men rode out of the shadow the officer turned
to Ingleby.

"Have you no more sense than build your fire right
beside the trail?" he asked.

Ingleby quietly turned his back on him, and patted the
still trembling horse.

"I hope you were not frightened, Miss Coulthurst," he
said.

Grace smiled at him, but before she could speak the
young officer pushed his horse a few paces nearer Ingleby.

"I asked you a question," he said.

Ingleby glanced at him over his shoulder. "Yes," he
said drily, "I believe you did."

He turned his head again, and Hetty, sitting unseen in
the shadow, failed to see his face as he looked up at the girl
whose bridle he held. She could, however, see the young
officer glancing down at him apparently with astonishment
as well as anger, and the police trooper behind sitting
woodenly still with a broad grin on his face, until a burly
man appeared suddenly in the sinking light. Then Grace
Coulthurst laughed.

"Will you be good enough to ride on, Reggie? I told

ON THE TRAIL 79

you my opinion of this horse," she said. "Father, I really
think you ought to thank Mr. Ingleby."

Major Coulthurst turned suddenly in his saddle.

"Ingleby?" he said. "Very much obliged to you, I'm
sure. I have a fancy I've seen you before."

"I once had the pleasure of handing you a cup of tea at
a tennis match at Holtcar."

Coulthurst laughed. "Yes," he said. "I remember it
now, especially as it was a remarkably hot day and I would
a good deal sooner have had a whisky-and-soda. Still, I've
seen you somewhere since then, haven't I ?"

"Yes, sir," said Ingleby drily. "On a Sunday after-
noon— at Willow Dene."

Coulthurst laughed again, good-humouredly. " Of course
I remember that, too, though I hope you've grown
out of your fondness for taking liberties with other people's
property. That kind of thing is still less tolerated in this
country. In the meanwhile we have a good way to go before
we camp. Once more, I'm much obliged to you."

He touched his horse with the spur, and when he and the
troopers melted into the night Ingleby turned, with one
hand closed a trifle viciously, towards the fire.

"Major Coulthurst is human, anyway, but the other
fellow's insolence made me long to pull him off his horse,"
he said. "Is there, after all, any essential difference be-
tween an officer of the Northwest Police and a mineral
claim prospector ?"

"One can't help admitting that in some respects there
seems to be a good deal," said Leger drily. "Still, I
should scarcely fancy the Canadian ones are likely to be
so unpleasantly sensible of it. The gentleman in question
was apparently born in England."

"Where else could you expect a man of his kind to come
from?" and Ingleby kicked a smouldering brand back into
the fire. "I fancied we had left that languid supercilious-

80 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

ness behind us. It's galling to run up against it again
here."

"My uncle's spirit in these stones!" said Leger. "Still,
aren't you getting a little too old now to run a tilt against
the defects of the national character? One feels more
sure of doing it effectively when he's younger."

Ingleby laughed, for his ill humour seldom lasted long.
"I suppose nobody can help being an ass now and then,
and, after all, the best protest is the sure and silent kick
when people who treat you like one unnecessarily add to
your burden. Anyway, that trooper's grin was soothing.
It suggested that there was a good deal of human nature
under his uniform."

"I was looking at the officer man, and scarcely noticed
him. It occurred to me that the attitude you complain of
probably runs in the family."

"I can't say I understand you."

"Well," said Leger reflectively, "I can't help a fancy
that we once met somebody very like him on another oc-
casion when we both lost our temper."

"At Willow Dene?"

"Exactly!" said Leger. "You can think it over. I'll
wash the plates at the creek and get some water."

He turned away, leaving Ingleby considerably astonished
and half-persuaded that he was right. The latter was still
looking into the darkness when Hetty spoke to him.

"It's not worth worrying about. Come and sit down,"
she said. "Who was that girl, Walter?"

"Miss Coulthurst," said Ingleby.

Hetty moved a little so that the firelight no longer fell
upon her, and Ingleby noticed that she was silent a some-
what unusual time. Then she asked, "The girl you used
to plav tennis with at Holtcar?"

"Yes."

Hetty wished that she could see his face. "You have
met her before in Canada?"

ON THE TRAIL 81

"Once only. On the Vancouver wharf, the day I let
them put the tea into the wrong car. She was coming
from the steamer."

Hetty's face grew a trifle hard for a moment as she made
a tolerably accurate guess at the cause of his neglect on
the afternoon in question. Then with a sudden change of
mood she laid her hand gently on his arm.

"Don't you think it would have been better for every-
body if she had stayed in England, Walter?"

"I expect it would have been for Tom and you. If I
had remembered what my business on the wharf was I
should never have brought all this upon you."

Hetty's hand closed almost sharply on his arm. "No,"
she said, "I don't mean that. You see, I was really glad
to get away from the boarding house."

" You assured me you liked it once," said Ingleby.

"Well, perhaps I did, but we needn't go into that. I
was thinking of you just now."

Ingleby would not pretend to misunderstand her. He
felt it would probably be useless, for Hetty, he knew, could
be persistent.

"Men get rich in this country now and then," he said.
"It would, at least, be something to work and hope for."

He could not see Hetty's face, but he noticed that there
was a faint suggestion of strain in her voice.

"Do you think she would ever be happy with you even
if you found a gold mine ?" she said.

"What do you mean, Hetty?" and Ingleby turned to-
wards her suddenly with a flush in his face.

"I only want to save you trouble. Don't you think when
a girl of that kind found out how much there was that she
had been accustomed to think necessary and that you knew
nothing about, she might remember the difference between
herself and you. After all, it's not always the most im-
portant points that count with a girl, you know."

She stopped somewhat abruptly, but Ingleby made a

82 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

little gesture. "I would rather you would go on and say
all you mean to."

"Well," said Hetty reflectively, "if I had been rich I
think I should like the man I married to do everything —
even play cards and billiards and shoot pheasants — as well
as my friends did. It wouldn't be nice to feel that I had
to make excuses for him, and I'm not sure I wouldn't be
vexed if he didn't seem to know all about the things folks
of that kind get for dinner."

Ingleby's laugh was a protest, but it was only half-
incredulous, for he had now and then realized with bitter-
ness the deference paid to conventional niceties in England.

"You can't believe that would trouble any sensible
woman?" he said.

"Well," answered Hetty, "perhaps it mightn't, for a little
while, or if there was only one thing, you see — but if you
put everything together and kept on doing what jarred
on her?"

"One could get somebody to teach him."

Hetty laughed. "To be like the officer man, or Mr.
Esmond of Holtcar?"

Ingleby understood the significance of the question.
The little conventional customs might be acquired, but
the constant jarring of opinion, and absence of compre-
hending sympathy or a common point of view was, he real-
ized, quite a different thing. Still, though there was
concern in his face, he had the hope of youth in him.
There was silence for a moment or two, and then Hetty
spoke again.

"Besides," she said, "after all, aren't gold mines a little
hard to find?"

Just then Leger made his appearance, somewhat to
Ingleby's relief, and ten minutes later Hetty retired to
the tent while the men, rolling themselves in their blankets,
lay down upon the cedar twigs beside the fire. One of
them, however, did not sleep as well as usual, and Leger

ON THE TRAIL 83

noticed that his sister appeared a little languid when she
rose in the morning. They were weary still, and it was
afternoon when they once more pushed on into the wilder-
ness along the climbing trail that had for guide-posts empty
provision cans.

IX

HETTY FINDS A WAY

'T* HE day's work was over, and once more the white mists
were streaming athwart the pines when Ingleby lay
somewhat moodily outside the tent that he and Leger oc-
cupied on the hillside above the Green Eiver. Just there
the stream swirled, smeared with froth and spume, through
a tremendous hollow above which the mountains lifted high
their crenellated ramparts of ice and never-melting snow.
Still, though usually termed one, that gorge was not a
canon in the strict sense of the word, for a sturdy climber
could scale one side of it through the shadow of the clinging
pines, and there was room for a precarious trail, the one
road to civilization, between the hillside and the thundering
river.

Farther back, the valley opened out, and up and down
it were scattered the Green Eiver diggings. From its
inner end an Indian trail, which as yet only one or two
white men had ever trodden, led on to the still richer
wilderness that stretched back to the Yukon. Above the
tent stood a primitive erection of logs roofed with split
cedar and hemlock bark which served at once as store and
Hetty's dwelling. She was busy inside it then, for Ingleby
could hear the rattle of cooking utensils and listened ap-
preciatively, for he was as hungry as usual, although dis-
pirited. His limbs ached from a long day's strenuous toil,
and the stain of the soil was on his threadbare jean. He
and Leger had spent a good many weeks now upon a placer

84

HETTY FINDS A WAY 85

claim, and the result of their labours was a few grains of
gold.

He rose, however, when Hetty came out of the shanty and
stood looking down into the misty valley. She was im-
maculately neat, as she generally was, even in that desola-
tion divided by a many days' journey from the nearest dry-
goods store and where the only approach to a laundry was
an empty coal-oil can, and she turned to Ingleby with a
little smile in her eyes. Hetty had her sorrows, and the
life she led would probably have been insupportable to
most women reared in an English town, but she had long
been accustomed to turn a cheerful face upon a very hard
world, and Ingleby, though he did not know exactly why,
felt glad that she was there. There are women who pro-
duce this effect on those they live among, and they are
seldom the most brilliant ones. Still, he did not speak,
for Hetty Leger was not a young woman who on all oc-
casions demanded attention.

"No sign of Tom!" she said.

"No," said Ingleby. "I only hope he brings something
with him, and hasn't lost the flies again. I gave a man
who went out a dollar each for them, and I couldn't get
another if I offered ten. The plain hooks I got in Van-
couver are no use either when there apparently isn't a
worm in the country."

Hetty smiled, though there were reasons why a trout fly
was worth a good deal to them, and one of them became
apparent when she glanced at the empty spider laid beside
the fire, which burned clear and red between two. small logs
laid parallel to each other and about a foot apart.

"If he doesn't you'll have to put up with bread and dried
apples. The pork's done," she said.

It was, perhaps, not the kind of conversation one would
have expected from a man at an impressionable age and a
distinctly pretty girl, especially when they stood alone in
such a scene of wild grandeur as few men's eyes have looked

86 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

upon, but Hetty did not appear to consider it in any way
out of place. Indeed, though there had been a time when
she had accepted Ingleby's compliments with a smile and
even became a trifle venturesome in her badinage, there had
been a difference since they left England, and while
Ingleby did not realize exactly what that difference was he
felt that it was there. Hetty Leger had not enjoyed any
of the training which is, usually, at least, bestowed upon
young women of higher station; but she had discovered
early that, as she expressed it, there is no use in crying for
the moon, and she had a certain pride. It was also a whole-
some one and untainted by petulance or mortified vanity.

"I don't think," she said reflectively, "I would worry too
much about those flies."

"No?" said Ingleby. "Nobody could have called that
pork good ; but dried apples ad libitum are apt to pall on
one."

Hetty shook her head. "I'm afraid they're not even
going to do that," she said. "There's very few of them
left in the bottom of the bag."

Just then Leger appeared, carrying a fishing-rod which
Ingleby had laboriously fashioned out of a straight fir
branch. He had also a string of trout, but was apparently
dripping below the knees and somewhat disconsolate. The
trout were dressed ready, and he laid two or three of them
in the pan, and then sat down upon one of the hearth logs.

"I expect that's the last we'll get," he said.

"You haven't whipped those flies off?" said Ingleby.

Leger nodded ruefully. "I'm afraid I have," he said.
"At least, I let them sink in an eddy and hooked a boulder.
It comes to very much the same thing."

Hetty laughed as she saw Ingleb)r's face. "Perhaps I'd
better go away," she said. "Aren't there times when it
hurts you to be quiet?"

"There are," said Ingleby drily. "This is one of them."

"Well," said Hetty, "you can talk when you break out.

HETTY FINDS A WAY 87)

I heard you one night in the car — but we'll get supper, and
then if you're very good I'll show you something."

She stirred the fire, and laid out the inevitable dried
apples and a loaf of bread which was not exactly of the
kind somewhat aptly termed grindstone in that country.
Then when the edge of their hunger was blunted she took
out a very diminutive fluffy object and handed it to Ingleby.

"I wonder if the trout would be silly enough to jump at
that," she said. "It's a little plumper than the other ones,
but I hadn't any silk to tie it with."

Ingleby stared at the fly in blank astonishment, and then
gravely passed it to Leger.

"Look at that, and be thankful you have a sister," he
said.

"I am," said Leger with a little smile, though something
in his voice suggested that he meant it. "But whatever
did you make it out of, Hetty?"

"Strips of frayed-out cloth, the blue grouse's feathers,
and the very little threads there are in a piece of cotton
when you unwind it."

"The tail was never made of feathers or cotton," said
Ingleby. "No more was this wing hackle. That's quite
sure. Look at it, Tom. You'll notice the bright colour."

Hetty unwisely snatched at the fly, but Leger's hand
closed upon it, and a moment or two later he laughed softly.
"It certainly won't come out in the water, and that is
presumably more than could be said of everybody's hair."

Ingleby took the fly from him, and Leger proceeded.
"Now we have got over that difficulty there is another to
consider."

"There generally is," said Hetty.

"This one is serious," said her brother. "One can no
more live upon trOut and nothing else than he can upon
dried apples, and while the flour is running out we have
neither dollars nor dust to buy any more with. Our friend
the freighter cannot be induced to grub-stake everybody,

88 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

and I'm not sure one could blame him for asking five or six
times as much for his provisions as they are worth in the
cities when you consider the nature of the trail. Of course,
Walter and I could earn a few dollars at Tomlinson's
mine."

He stopped, and looked at Ingleby, whose face grew a
trifle grave.

"A placer claim," said the latter, "can only he held
while you work upon it continuously."

"Exactly! Seventy-two hours after we lay down the
shovel any other man who thinks it worth while can seize
upon our last chance of making a fortune. I think you
understand that, considering the present cost of provisions,
we are scarcely likely to save as much as would keep us
while we try again, out of what we make on Tomlinson's
claim."

Ingleby realized this and said nothing. The giving up
of his claim implied the parting with certain aspirations
which had of late supported him through long days of
feverish toil ; but one must live, and he had discovered that
to work as the free miners do in that country a somewhat
ample diet is necessary. He sat near the fire, and Hetty,
who saw the hardness of his face, understood it.

"You really think there is gold in the claim?" she said.

"Yes," said Ingleby. "Tomlinson and one or two of the
others who have played this game half their lives admitted
that the signs were as good as any they had seen. Still,
I'm by no means sure we can hold out. until we strike it."

Hetty smiled in a curious fashion. "Especially while you
have me to keep?"

Even Leger appeared astonished, and Ingleby flushed
hotly as he turned to her. "Hetty," he said sternly,
"what do you mean by that?"

The girl laughed, and pointed to the loaf. "That is nice
bread?"

HETTY FINDS A WAY 89

"It is," said Ingleby. "Still, I don't see what that has
to do with it."

"There's no bread like it in the Green Eiver country,"
persisted Hetty. "They taught me to bake at the board-
ing-house. I made it."

Ingleby looked at her in astonishment. "Go on," he
said. "I'll wait a little."

"Well," and though Hetty spoke quietly her voice was
not quite her usual one, "what are you and Tom longing
for just now more than anything?"

"The means to go on working on our claim."

"Then what would you say if I gave you them?"

Ingleby gasped. For days he had been haunted by the
fear that their provisions would run out before they found
the gold he believed in, for a little very simple figuring had
shown that there was only a faint hope of their making
more than the value of their day's labour once they relin-
quished the hitherto unprofitable claim. There was also,
it was evident, no great probability that a mere wielder of
pick and shovel would ever gain the regard of the Gold
Commissioner's daughter, though Miss Coulthurst, whom
he met occasionally, had of late been unusually gracious to
him. He had, however, not the faintest notion of the fact
that Hetty Leger read his thoughts.

"You see, it's quite simple," she said. "I made this
bread, and there are men up the valley who are really find-
ing gold. They don't want to waste a minute doing any-
thing else, and it takes time to bake. You can't even make
flapjacks in a moment. Now, if I had two or three sacks
of flour I think I could get almost what I liked to ask for
every loaf."

Leger looked up with a little expressive smile. "I be-
lieve she has found the way out of the difficulty."

It was, however, Ingleby at whom Hetty glanced, though
it did not strike him then — as it did long afterwards — that

90 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

she must have been quite aware what she was offering
him.

"Well?" she said.

Ingleby's lips were set, and his face a trifle grim. To-
live, even for the purpose of working for a result by which
she would benefit, upon the yield of a woman's enterprise
and toil did not commend itself to him, though he could
not very well tell her so.

"We haven't got the flour," he said.

"No," said Hetty. "Still, it can be bought at the settle-
ment, and no doubt you could find the pack-horses in the
bush. You could go down and get it while Tom holds the
claim."

"There is still the difficulty that I haven't got the
money."

Hettv laughed. "I have. The wages were really good
at the boarding-house. Of course, you and Tom could
build the oven and chop the wood, while I wouldn't mind
your kneading the dough either if you wanted to. That
would leave me with nothing to do but watch the bread
baking."

Ingleby still said nothing; but his face, as the firelight
showed, was a trifle flushed, and Leger shook his head at
him. "One can't afford to be whimsical up here," he said.
"Anyway, I'm willing to give the thing a trial, and if we
don't strike gold we can always go over to Tomlinson's
or start baking, too. I shouldn't wonder if it should turn
out as profitable as mining, and it is certainly likely to be a
good deal more reliable."

Hetty once more glanced at Ingleby. "Of course, we
can't make you join us if you don't want."

At last Ingleby turned to her. "Hetty," he said quietly,
"I don't think you could understand how much you have
done for me. I would sooner cut my hand off than let the
claim go."

Hetty only smiled, and they had almost thrashed out the

HETTY FINDS A WAY 91

scheme when a thud of hoofs came up faintly through the
roar of the river from the gorge below. Then the figure of
a horseman became visible, and when he swung himself very
stiffly from the saddle in front of the fire Ingleby rose
hastily and held out his hand.

"Mr. Sewell !" he said. "I don't mean it conventionally,
this — is — a pleasure."

The stranger, who swept his wide hat off as he turned to
Hetty, laughed. "I have just come in. I wonder if I
could ask — Mrs. Ingleby, isn't it — for a little supper?"

The request was a very usual one in a country where the
stranger is rarely turned away unfed; but Hetty, who
seemed to draw a little farther back into the shadow, was
a trifle slow in answering it.

"Miss Leger!" she said. "Of course, you shall have
supper. Put on two more trout and fill the kettle, Tom."

Sewell gratefully took his place beside the fire, and, for
he had an engaging tongue, had almost gained Hetty's con-
fidence, which was not lightly given, by the time the meal
was over. Then she looked hard at him.

"What did you come here for?" she asked.

"Wouldn't the fame of the Green River mines be excuse
enough?" said the man.

Hetty shook her head. "No," she said, "I don't think
it would. People who talk as you do aren't generally fond
of digging."

"Then finding I wasn't wanted in Vancouver I went
back into the States, and as usual got into a trifling diffi-
culty there. That was in Colorado, where the men and the
manager of a certain big mine couldn't come to terms. The
manager was, as not infrequently happens, friendly with
the constituted authorities, and between them and the men's
executive, with whom I managed to quarrel, they made
that town unpleasant for me. Of course, one gets accus-
tomed to having his character pulled to pieces and being

92 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

hustled in the streets, but they go rather farther than that
in Colorado."

"And so you ran away?"

Sewell laughed. "I certainly went when it was evident
that I could do no good. Still, it was in the daylight, and
half the populace came with me to the station."

"I asked you what brought you here," said Hetty se-
verely.

Sewell made a little expressive gesture. "Between friends
— I think I can go so far?" he asked, and it was Hetty
alone he looked at. "You see, I met your brother and
Mr. Ingleby in Vancouver."

Hetty regarded him silently for a moment or two. He
was a well-favoured man with a curiously pleasing manner.
"Yes," she said. "I think you can."

"Then I came here to see what I could do at mining —
I have really used the shovel oftener than you seem to
fancy — and, when it is necessary, go through by the Indian
trail to the camps between this country and the Yukon.
Though they will probably work on quietly while the ground
is soft, they're not pleased with the mining regulations
yonder."

He looked out into the soft blue darkness which now
veiled the great white peaks that lay between him and the
vast desolation of the Northwest, and the smile died out
of his eyes. A few moments slipped by before Leger broke
the silence.

"I believe that trail is scarcely practicable to a white
man. Only one or two have ever tried it," he said.

"That is so much the better. I am, however, certainly
going in."

There waa a little silence, and then Ingleby said sugges-
tively, "They have been sending a good many of the North-
west Police into that country."

Sewell smiled. "From one point of view I think they
were wise. It's not the contented that one usuallv finds

HETTY FINDS A WAY 93

mining in the wilderness. The soil, of course, is British,
but that, after all, does not imply very much."

"You mean that the men up there have no country?"
asked Leger.

"Some of them, at least, have unpleasantly good memo-
ries. They are the cast-outs and the superfluities; but, as
no doubt you know, it is not their criminals the older lands
get rid of now."

"That," said Hetty sharply, "is all nonsense. If they're
really bad they are put into prison."

Sewell laughed. "I believe they are, now and then.
!Nbw, suppose you tell me about the Green Eiver country."

They sat late that night about the crackling fire, though
there was a vague uneasiness upon two of them. Hetty
liked the stranger, as a man, but she had seen that trouble
came of following out the theories he believed in ; while all
Ingleby wished for just then was an opportunity for toiling
quietly at his claim.

Sewell naturally slept in their tent, and it was not until
he had breakfasted next morning that he rode into the
valley. Ingleby walked with him a short distance, and as it
happened they met Grace Coulthurst on the trail. She
smiled as she passed Ingleby. Sewell, his companion fan-
cied, looked at her harder than was necessary as he sat still
in the saddle, a somewhat striking figure of a man, with his
wide hat in his hand.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"Miss Coulthurst, daughter of the Gold Commissioner."

" There is no reason why a prospector shouldn't look at
a queen, and she has a striking face. Of course, one would
hardly call it beautiful — still, it is distinctly attractive."

"You have no doubt met a good many beautiful women
of her station ?" asked Ingleby, who was a trifle nettled and
could not quite restrain the ironical question.

Sewell laughed. "Well," he said, "I have certainly come

94 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

across one or two. Besides, I had rather a fancy that I
might be an artist once — a good while ago."

Inglehy was duly astonished, hut no more was said on
the subject, and in another few minutes Sewell rode on up
the valley alone.

X

UNKEST

T T was as hot as it can be now and then during the fierce
brief summer of the North, and the perspiration rose
in beads on the Crown Kecorder's face as he stood on the
rude verandah of his log-built dwelling looking down at the
tents and shanties which showed here and there amidst the
pines. He was a little man with a quiet and almost ex-
pressionless face, and attired, although he lived far remote
from civilization in the wilderness, with a fastidious neat-
ness which with the erectness of his carriage furnished a
hint as to his character. There was, however, nothing that
any one could have termed finicking about him. He was
precise, formal, and unemotional, a man of fixed opinions,
as little to be moved by argument as by any attempt at
compulsion, for Eecorder Eshelby was one of the Insular
Englishmen who, when entrusted with authority on the out-
skirts of the Empire, are equally capable of adding to their
nation's credit or involving it in difficulties by their soulless
and undeviating regard for its law. There are a good many
of them, and, while occasionally respected, they are, as a
rule, not greatly loved in any of England's dependencies.

Sitting in the shadowy room behind him a hard-bitten
Canadian of a very different stamp watched Eshelby with
an ironical twinkle in his eyes. He had won his promotion,
on merit, in the Northwest Police, and there was red dust
on his faded uniform, which showed a roughly stitched-up
rent here and there.

Outside the sunglare was dazzling, and when he turned
95

96 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

his eyes from Eshelby he could see the peaks gleaming with
a hard whiteness against the blue. They were by no means
high, for the level of perpetual snow is low in that country,
and it was only on the eastern hand that they rose to any
elevation. West and north a desolation of swamp muskeg,
wherein few living creatures could face the mosquitoes,
rock and river, stretched hack to the Yukon, and Eshelby
was there to carry out the mining laws of that district,
which are less lenient than those of the province to the
south of it.

The valley was very still, and the drowsy fragrance of the
firs crept into the dwelling ; but Slavin, who would sooner
have heard the clatter of shovels or the crash of a blasting
charge, was not in the least deceived. He knew that un-
usual quietness now and then presages storm, and he had
felt that there was a tension in the atmosphere for some
little time. He smiled, however, when Eshelby glanced
into the room.

"If they do not turn up in another minute I will walk
across to the outpost with you," said the latter. "The time
is up."

He spoke concisely, with a clean English intonation, and,
as usual, betrayed no impatience; but Slavin fancied he
was by no means pleased at the fact that a band of miners
with grievances should presume to keep him waiting for
even a few moments.

"I guess they'll come," he said. "If I were you I'd
promise them something if it's only to humour them."

Eshelby glanced at him coldly, for he was not as a rule
addicted to considering any advice that might be offered
him.

"A concession," he said, "is usually regarded as a sign of
wavering. In dealing with a mob of this kind firmness is
necessary."

Slavin made a little gesture, and smiled in a somewhat
curious fashion. He had shepherded the Blackfeet on the

UNREST 97

plains, as well as put down whisky-runners and carried out
the prohibition laws, and he knew that to gain an end one
must yield a point occasionally. It was, however, not his
business to instruct the Crown Recorder, and Eshelby sel-
dom deviated a hair's-breadth from the course he had once
decided on.

"Well," Slavin said, "I guess I hear them, and I'll stay
right where I am. They can't see me in the shadow, and
if they knew I was hanging round it might worry them.
You don't want to hang out a red rag when you have a
difference of opinion with a bull."

He moved his chair back a little farther from the door
when a murmur of voices and patter of feet came up
through the dimness beneath the stunted pines, for he was
quite aware that his warning was not likely to restrain
Eshelby from a display of the exasperating crimson on
the smallest provocation. Then he leaned forward with a
quiet intentness in his eyes as a group of men came out of
the shadows. They were dressed for the most part in soil-
stained jean, and were all of them spare of flesh and sinewy.
They had bronzed faces with a significant grimness in them,
and moved with a certain air of resolution that did not as-
tonish Slavin. They were hard men — English, Canadians,
Americans, Teutons, by birth — though that meant very
little to most of them then ; men who had faced many perils
and borne as much privation as flesh and blood is capable of.
To men of their kind all countries are the same, and they
have not as a rule any particular tenderness for the land
which had, in their phraseology, no use for them.

They had also, or, at least, so they thought, legitimate
grievances ; for the exactions of the Crown were heavy, and
it is because the opinions of such as they were are seldom
listened to that news now and then reaches England which
is unpleasant to complacent optimists with Imperialistic
views. The wonder is, however, that the latter are not
more frequently disturbed in their tranquillity, for even

98 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

j when peace and prosperity are proclaimed at St. Stephen's
there is usually, and probably must necessarily be, all
round the fringe of the Empire a vague unrest which is
occasionally rife with unpleasant probabilities. The men
of the outer marches have primitive passions, and, or they
would in all probability never have been there at all, an
indomitable will. Slavin, at least, understood them, and
knew that while it is well to keep a tight grasp on the reins,
it is not always advisable to make those driven unduly
sensible of it.

Two who came foremost stopped in front of the veranda,
and one of them was a well-favoured man with restless dark
eyes. Slavin fancied he had seen the picture of somebody
very like him in an American paper. The rest waited a few
yards away, and the man with the dark eyes greeted
Eshelby, who responded with the curtest inclination, cour-
teously.

"We have come for an answer to the request we handed
you," he said.

Eshelby glanced at him coldly. "You are a free miner?
What is the name on your certificate?"

"Sewell," said the other. "You may, perhaps, have
heard of it?"

Slavin started a little, and then smiled to himself, for
there was, at least, no sign in the Recorder's face that he
attached any particular significance to the announcement.

"Well," he said, "I have, as I promised, glanced at what
you are pleased to term your request, though it bears a
somewhat unfortunate resemblance to a demand."

"We're not going to worry 'bout what you call it," said
the man who had not spoken yet. "We have come here
so you can tell us what you mean to do."

Eshelby smiled a little, though it would have been wiser
if he had refrained from it.

"Personally," he said, "I can do nothing whatever."

There was a low murmur with an unpleasant note in it

UNREST 99

from the rest of the deputation. The curt non possumus is
usually the last resource of the diplomatist when argument
has failed, and it very seldom makes for peace, as everybody
knows. Slavin wondered why the Crown authorities should
have inflicted upon him such a man as Eshelby when his
burden was already sufficiently heavy.

"Well," said the miner grimly, "something has got to
be done. We let you know what we wanted. Haven't you
anything to say?"

"Only that I shall send your petition to the proper
quarter." ,

"I wonder," said Sewell drily, "if you would tell us what
is likely to be done with it there?"

"It will receive attention when the department is at lib-
erty to consider it."

Sewell laughed. "Presumably at any time during the
next two years! Can you guarantee that it will not be
neatly docketed and put away for ever ?"

"And," said one of the men who stood behind, "we may
be dead by then. How're we going to worry through when
the snow comes and if s going to cost a fortune to get pro-
visions in when the Crown takes the big share of what most
of us make?"

Eshelby did not even look at the last speaker as he an-
swered Sewell.

"I certainly can't guarantee anything," he said.

There was a little murmur from the men, but Sewell
raised his hand restrainingly. "We had," he said, with a
quietness which had, nevertheless, a suggestion of irony in
it, "the honour of pointing out to you some of our diffi-
culties and suggesting how they could be obviated. We
may now take it that you can give us no assurance that
the matter will even receive the attention we, at least, think
necessary ?"

"I am," said Eshelby, "not in a position to promise you

100 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

anything. The petition will be submitted to men qualified
to deal with it."

"With a recommendation that as the matter is urgent it
should be looked into?"

Eshelby straightened himself a trifle. "My views will be
explained to those in authority. I do not recognize any
necessity for laying them before you."

The rest of the deputation had drawn a little closer to
Sewell, and Slavin was watching their faces intently. He
felt that unless they had confidence in their leader, and he
was endued with all the qualities necessary for the part,
there was trouble on hand. Sewell, who made a little force-
ful gesture as he glanced at the rest, was, however, ap-
parently still master of the situation.

"Then," he said, "there is in the meanwhile nothing
you can suggest ?"

"I fancied you understood that already," said Eshelby.
"If those whose business it is think fit to modify the regu-
lations you complain of I will let you know. Unless that
happens they will be adhered to as usual, rigorously."

His coldly even voice was in itself an aggravation, and
Slavin, who saw one of the deputation move forward with
a little glow in his eyes, rose sharply to his feet. He, how-
ever, sat down again next moment with a smile, for Sewell
quietly laid his hand upon the man's arm, and the rest
stood still in obedience to his gesture. Slavin was not
astonished, for he, too, was a man who understood how to
wield authority.

"Then," said Sewell, "we need not waste any more of
your time. We have heard nothing that we did not expect,
boys, and now we at least know where we stand."

He turned once more to Eshelby, raising his wide hat,
and then moved back into the shadow of the pines, taking
care, as Slavin noticed, that the others, who did not seem
greatly desirous of doing so, went on in front of him. The

UNREST 101

Recorder glanced at Slavin complacently when they dis-
appeared.

"A little firmness is usually effective in a case of this
kind," he said. "I will, of course, send on the petition,
but as I scarcely suppose it will be referred to again we
can consider the affair as closed."

Slavin smiled. "I am not quite so sure as you seem to
he. The fellow's last remark was a significant one, and
he's not the kind of man to stand still anywhere very long.
Anyway, he and you between you have forced my hand, and,
while I have got to take your lead, the game is going to
be a risky one."

Eshelby sat down with a little gesture which implied that
he had already given the trifling affair rather more atten-
tion than it merited ; and Slavin went out to take such pro-
ceedings as appeared advisable, though it was not until
that night that the result of them became evident.

Sewell was then sitting with eight or nine men in the
general room of Hobson's Oregon Hotel. It had walls of
undressed logs, but the roof was still of canvas, for Hobson
had been too busy watching over his interests in several
profitable claims and dispensing deleterious liquor to split
sufficient cedar. There was another room in the building
in which he slept with any newcomer who was rash enough
to put his hospitality to the test. Rather more than a hun-
dred miners were at work in that valley, but only a few
whose views and influence with the rest were known had
been invited to attend the conference.

The room was foul with tobacco smoke and the reek of
kerosene, for the big lamp smoked when the roof canvas
flapped now and then. Sewell sat in a deer-hide chair with
a pipe in his hand, and a man with a grim, bronzed face and
a splendid corded arm showing through the torn sleeve of
his shirt was speaking. He spoke quietly and like a man of
education.

"We have," he said, "as our host has pointed out, done

102 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

the straight thing and given constituted authority a show.
The constituted authority, as usual, prefers to do nothing.
We naturally consider our grievances warranted, but I need
not go into them again. Some of us risked our lives to
get here ; the rest will probably do so by holding on through
the winter, and, considering how we work, it is not exactly
astonishing that we wish to take back a little gold with us —
which we are scarcely likely to do under the present regu-
lations. I, however, fancy the position is plain enough to
everybody."

"The question, Hobson," said another man, "is how's it
going to be altered ?"

"By kicking," said Hobson drily. "You want to start
in hard, and stay right there with it."

There was a murmur of approval, and a man stood up.

"That, I guess, is just the point — who's to begin, and
when?" he said. "There's mighty little use in three or
four of us wearing our shoes out before the rest. No, sir,
Slavin would come round with his troopers and run those
men out."

Sewell nodded. "Our friend has hit it; we have got to
go slow," he said. "There are at least a hundred men in
this valley, and a good many more with the same grievances
farther west, without mentioning the Green Eiver country,
where the regulations are easier. Now, it will be your busi-
ness to go round and make sure of the men here joining us.
A good many of them are ready, and we'll strike when you
can get the rest. The kick will have to be unanimous."

"That's so," said another man. "Lie low until we're
ready. Well, when the time comes you'll have your pro-
gramme ?"

Sewell leaned forward in his chair with a little glow in
his eyes. "Then," he said, "we will, for one thing, show
Eecorder Eshelby out of the valley by way of a protest,,
and, if it appears necessary, as it probably will do, seize
Slavin's armoury. We'll make our regulations and give

UNREST 103

the Crown people a hint that they had better sanction
them."

There was a little hum of approbation, and a man stood
up. "I guess that's the platform/' he said. "Half the
men in this country are Americans, and Alaska is not so
far away. Once we show we mean it they're coming right
in, and when we start in twisting the Beaver's tail we're
going to get some backing at home. Do you know any
reason why we shouldn't send somebody down south to whip
up a campaign fund? There was plenty of money piled
up when the Chicago Irishmen were going over to ask why
the British nation threw out the Home Kule Bill."

Most of the others laughed, but while there was no ex-
pression of sympathy it was significant that there was as
little astonishment. Visionaries talked of founding a new
republic in the North just then, and some of annexation,
but still the Beaver flag flapped over every Government out-
post. There were many men with grievances in that coun-
try, but they knew the world and were far from sure that
there was anything to be gained by changing their accus-
tomed burden for what might prove to be a more grievous
one. There were others who, while by no means contented
with the mining regulations, were still characterized by the
sturdy Imperialism which is to be met with throughout
most of Canada.

Hobson turned to the speaker with a whimsical grin.
"The Chicago Irishmen stayed right where they were,"
he said. "I don't know what they did with the money, but
they bought no rifles — they weren't blame fools. The moral
is that what an Irishman looks at twice is too big a thing
for us. No, sir, you wouldn't raise ten dollars in a month
down there. America has all the trouble she has any use
for already. What we want to do is to put up a good big
bluff — and no more than that — on the British Empire."

"How's the Empire going to take it?" asked another.

Sewell smiled. "Patiently, I think. That is, if we go

104* DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

just far enough and know when to stop. They move slowly
in England — I was horn there — and I'm not sure they're
very much quicker in Ottawa. In fact, they rather like an
energetic protest, and you very seldom get anything with-
out it. Once we show we're in earnest they'll send over a
special commissioner with instructions to make any con-
cessions he thinks will please us."

"There are Slavin and his troopers to consider," said
the man who had spoken first. "They're not going to sit
still, and if any of them got hurt during the proceedings
it's quite likely we might be visited by a column of Cana-
dian militia."

Others commenced to speak — two or three together, in
fact — but Sewell raised his hand.

"That eventuality will have to be carefully guarded
against," he said. "Slavin seems to be a man of ability
and sense, and he would never pit his handful of troopers
against a hundred men. In the meanwhile, everything de-
pends on secrecy, and no move must be made until you are
sure of everybody. I will answer for the Green Eiver men.
I am going back there shortly."

Then they put their heads together to consider a scheme,
and there was only a low hum of voices until Hobson stood
up suddenly. A tramp of feet and a sharp order rose from
outside.

"Slavin and the troopers !" he said. "We don't want him
to know who's here. Get out through the roof, boys. Put
the lamp out."

It was done, and while a sound of ripping and scrambling
became audible in the black darkness Hobson touched
Sewell's arm.

"You and I have got to see it out. I guess he's sure of
us," he said.

In another moment or two somebody beat upon the door,
and getting no answer drove it open. Then a sulphur

UNREST 105

match sputtered, and the trooper who stood in the entrance
turned to a man behind him.

"There are only two men here, sir," he said.

"Light that lamp," said the other man. "I feel toler-
ably certain there were considerably more."

Hobson stood forward when the feeble light of the blue
flame made him dimly visible.

"I guess it's broke," he said.

"Bring Rignauld's lantern !" said the man in the dark-
ness.

It was at least a minute before another trooper appeared
with a light, and Sewell surmised that his companions had
made good use of the time. Slavin, who, as he quite ex-
pected, was standing in the doorway, seemed to realize it
too, for he glanced at the torn canvas.

"I might have thought of that," he said. "You and
Rignauld will start down the trail and stop any man you
come across, though I guess they're back in their tents or
in the bush by now."

The trooper went out, and Slavin turned to Hobson with
a smile on his face. "We have got you, anyway, and you'll
spend to-night, at least, in the outpost. To-morrow I'll
look into the question of the liquor-sale permits, and it's
quite likely this saloon will be closed. I'll have to take you
along as well, Mr. Sewell."

Sewell made a good-humoured gesture of resignation.
"I suppose I'll have to come. It's a proceeding I'm not
altogether unaccustomed to. Still, I'm not sure there is
any charge you can work up against me."

Slavin looked at him almost appreciatively. "Well," he
said, "I fancy you're not going to make any trouble here.
In fact, ifs very7 probable that you will leave this settlement
early to-morrow, though it would have been a good deal
better had I choked you off from coming here. I would
have done it had I known who you were. You will take

106 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

any steps that seem necessary if these gentlemen try to get
away, Trooper Nixon."

Sewell spent that night at the outpost, but not in the
same room with Hobson, and when he had breakfasted tol-
erably well Slavin came in.

"Your horse is waiting, and you will start at once — for
wherever you like so long as it's outside my boundaries,
though I may as well mention that every officer in the
district will be warned against you," he said. "If you feel
yourself aggrieved you can, of course, complain to Vic-
toria."

Sewell made no protest. When he knew it would be
useless he seldom did, and Slavin, who handed him several
days' provisions, waited until he swung himself into the
saddle.

"It wouldn't be wise to push your luck too hard by
coming back," he said.

Sewell smiled from the saddle, and rode away. He knew
that the seed was sown and need only be left to spring and
ripen, though he would have felt easier had he been sure
that Slavin did not know it, too. Eshelby could be trusted
to stimulate the growth of the crop, but he had already
grasped the capabilities of the quiet police officer, who, it
was evident, was a very different kind of man.

XI

INGLEBY VENTURES A REMONSTRANCE

T T was late in the afternoon when Ingleby, who led two
jaded pack-horses, limped into the Green River canon.
His long boots, which were caked with the mire of leagues
of travel, galled him cruelly; every joint was aching; and
it was only by an effort he kept himself on his feet at all.
It had rained most of the way from the distant settlement
where he had been for the flour Hetty had asked for, and
during the last week he had slept by snatches amidst the
dripping fern while the pitiless deluge thrashed the fir
trunks that indifferently sheltered him. The few strips of
natural prairie in the valleys had turned to treacherous
swamps, where he sank to the knee, and every few miles
there was a furious torrent to be forded perilously.

Had he been called on to make that journey under such
conditions when fresh from England he would probably
never have reached the canon, but strenuous toil with
pick and shovel and the simple life of the wilderness had
hardened him, and endued him with the strength of will
which holds the worn-out body in due subjection. Man's
capacity for endurance is, as even the hard-handed bush-
man knows, moral as well as physical; but Ingleby was
making his last effort when he reached the great rift be-
tween the hills.

The river roared close beneath him, swirling among its
boulders, stained green with the clay of a great glacier,
and overhead the sombre pines were blurred by mist and
rain. No laden beast could scale the slope they clung to,

107

108 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

and a treacherous bank of gravel on which a man could
scarcely keep his footing dropped to the river just outside
the slushy trail. Ingleby sank ankle-deep in mire at every
step, but he held on doggedly with a hand on the leading
horse's bridle and the rain on his face, for Leger's camp
was not very far away, and he feared that if he rested now
his worn-out limbs might fail him when he came to start
again.

That was sufficient to account for the sudden hardening
of his face when a thud of hoofs came out of the rain. The
trail was especially soft and narrow just there, and it would
evidently be a risky matter to attempt to lead two horses
past each other. Thrusting the leading beast close in to
the inner side he raised his voice as two figures materialized
amidst the trunks in front of him. Down in that great hol-
low the light was dim, but the clatter of accoutrements told
him it was a couple of police troopers who were ap-
proaching.

"Stop where you are until I get by. There's scarcely
room for both of us," he said.

It was evident that the men heard him, for one said
something to the other sharply, but they did not stop. They
came on at a floundering trot instead, until Ingleby saw
who the foremost was and pulled the pack-horse across the
trail. Then there was a musical jingling as the men drew
bridle, and Ingleby and the leader looked at each other.
He wore an officer's uniform and there was just then a little
sardonic gleam in his dark eyes. He was also very like the
man Ingleby, who now knew he bore the same name, had
faced at Willow Dene.

"Why didn't you pull up behind there, packer?" he
asked.

"You couldn't have got past, Captain Esmond," said
Ingleby. "I was well into the narrow stretch when I
called to you."

"That," said the policeman, "is a trifle unfortunate —

INGLEBY'S REMONSTRANCE 109

for yon. It ought to be tolerably evident that I can't wheel
my horse now."

It was apparently out of the question, but Ingleby's wet
face grew a trifle grim, for the assurance with which the
young officer claimed precedence was exasperating, and he
knew that any miner in the valley seeing him hampered
by two laden beasts would have made way for him. One
of them, it was evident, must leave the trail, but Ingleby
felt that the question which that one would be was by no
means decided yet. He glanced at the swirling pool below,
and though he fancied there was no great depth of water, it
was clear to him that even if he could lead the worn-out
beasts down the slippery slope of gravel he could never
drag them up again.

"You should have foreseen that when I warned you to
stop," he said.

A little flicker of colour showed in Esmond's face, but
he sat easily, and, as it seemed to Ingleby, insolently, still
in his saddle, looking at him with an excellent assumption
of ironical incredulity, as though unwilling to believe that
he had heard correctly. This was the more exasperating
because Ingleby had his share of the sturdy English in-
dependence, and an almost unreasoning dislike of anything
that savoured of arrogance. It was, however, consoling
to remember that in the wilderness the patrician is held of
no more account than the manhood inherent in him war-
rants, and must either waive his claim to superiority or
support it by his own resources. There was also no sign
that the trooper sympathized with his officer.

"Will you be good enough to get out of my way?" asked
Esmond with portentous quietness.

There was no answer; and he touched his horse with the
spur. The beast floundered forward splashing in the mire ;
but Ingleby stood still with a grim wet face in the middle
of the trail, and a faint trace of astonishment crept into
the young officer's eyes, for, as sometimes happens in the

110 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

case of men with sufficient belief in themselves, he had
hitherto found the world inclined to take him at his own
valuation. Now he found the position as galling as it was
unexpected, for it was evident that the nerve of the wet
and miry man who stood awaiting him with exasperating
quietness was quite equal to his.

Esmond's blood was up, and it is very probable that he
would have risked the encounter had he been free from
official responsibility. As it was, however, he remembered
that an officer of police is not warranted in riding down
an unoffending citizen, and in addition to this the heavily-
laden pack-horse drawn right across the trail promised to
prove an embarrassing obstacle even if Ingleby had not
been standing beside it with a heavy fir staff in his hand.
It occurred to Esmond that there was very little to be
gained except damage to his personal dignity by riding
into two bags of flour, while a second pack-horse similarly
encumbered blocked the trail close behind.

Thus at the last moment he swung himself backwards
with a wrench upon the bridle, and there was a scattering
of mire and gravel as his horse reeled down the slope to the
river. The beast was used to the mountains, and the man
had ridden from infancy, so that when they plunged to the
girth in the swirling pool he was still in the saddle, and
Ingleby saw that his face was dark with a flush of anger.
How he was to get out was his own business, and it was
evident that he was in no danger, so Ingleby turned and
gazed at the trooper, who sat still with a faint but sugges-
tive twinkle in his eyes.

"I don't want to wait here. Both the beasts and I are
badly played out," he said.

The trooper rubbed his chin with a wet hand, and
glanced at his officer, who had, however, his back to him
just then as he picked his way amidst the boulders.

"Well," he said, "I guess if I got down and edged out to

INGLEBY'S REMONSTRANCE 111

the off side you might pass me. The trail's a little wider
here."

"Thanks!" said Ingleby, and looked at the man as he
carefully led his beasts by him. The trooper also looked at
him, with a little comprehending grin.

"Somebody's going to make trouble if he can find a speck
on anything to-morrow," he said.

He swung himself into the saddle with all the haste he
could contrive, and with one eye still upon his officer.
Ingleby plodded on, and, as dusk was closing in, limped into
sight of a ruddy blaze among the pines. Leger, who had
heard his approach, took the pack-horses' bridles, and In-
gleby stood stupidly still, blinking at him.

"I've got it," he said, pointing to the flour. "Where is
it to go ? I'll give you a hand to heave it down."

Leger laughed and pointed to the shanty. " Go right in.
I'll manage the bags myself," he said. "Tomlinson and
the boys have been up and built us a new store-shed."

Ingleby turned towards the shanty, and as he neared
the doorway a slim figure cut against the light, and a hand
was stretched out to draw him in. Then he felt a little
thrill run through him as he stood in the welcome warmth
with Hetty looking up at him. There was an almost ma-
ternal gentleness and compassion in her eyes, for Ingleby' s
face was a trifle grey and the water ran from him. Then
she turned swiftly and thrust an armful of clothing upon
him.

"Put them on this minute; they're warm and dry.
There's a light in the new shed," she said. "Then come
back here. You're not to go outside again."

Ingleby was glad to obey her, and when he came back
Hetty had drawn a rude chair of deerhide towards the fire.

"Sit down, and don't worry about trying to talk," she
said.

Ingleby sank wearily into the chair, and lay there in a
state of blissful content watching her with half -closed eyes.

112 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

It was an inestimable luxury to be free from the chill of
his saturated clothing and feel the warmth creep through
him, but by degrees he became sensible that his content-
ment had more than a physical origin. The soft rustle of
Hetty's dress was soothing as she laid out a simple meal ;
her quick, light footsteps suggested a gratifying anxiety to
minister to his comfort; and he found the fashion in which
she smiled at him, as she did once or twice, especially
pleasant. Hetty had a spice of temper and a will of her
own, but she was also endued with the kindliness which
makes up for a good many deficiencies. Ingleby turned
his head at last and looked at her languidly.

"You make this shanty feel like home — though it is a
very long while since I had one," he said.

Hetty flushed, ever so slightly, and Ingleby naturally
did not notice it.

"We have been making improvements since you left,"
she said. "It really doesn't need very much to make a
place look comfortable."

Ingleby appeared reflective. "Well," he said, "I sup-
pose it doesn't. I don't know how you manage it, Hetty,
but everything seems just as one would like it when you
arrange it. Still, that's not quite what I mean either. I'm
really not sure I know what I do mean — you see, I'm
sleepy."

Hetty stopped close beside him and looked down with a
little smile, though there was just a shade more colour than
nsual in her face.

"You are worn out, and needn't worry about it until you
have had supper," she said. "If I had known you would
come back like this I would never have let you go."

"Still, you wanted the flour."

"I didn't mean you to wear yourself out to save those lazy
miners from baking their own bread."

Ingleby shook his head. "I shall be all right to-morrow,
and I'm going to talk," he said. "That wasn't why you

INGLEBY'S REMONSTRANCE 113

sent me. One doesn't start a bakery out of philan-
thropy. "

"Well," said Hetty, "you know I wanted the money."

"For Tom and me!" said Ingleby reproachfully. "I
felt horribly mean about it all the way to the settlement."

"Is it very unpleasant then to let me do anything for
you ?"

"No," said Ingleby. "That is, of course, it's generally
very nice. Still, in this ease "

Hetty looked at him curiously. "Oh, I know! Still,
you seemed quite angry once because I didn't care to let
you lend Tom the money to bring us out."

"That, of course, was very different."

Hetty smiled. "Yes," she said. "When one is a girl it
usually is."

Ingleby, who was very drowsy, did not seem quite sure
what to make of this, and gazed meditatively at the fire.

"That stone hearth wasn't there when I left," he said.
"Who made it, Hetty?"

"Tomlinson. Tom went round to tell the boys about the
bakery, and Tomlinson came over to show him how to
build the oven."

"And he made this chair? Now I think of it we hadn't
one before, and Tom certainly didn't make it. It's too
comfortable."

"Yes," said Hetty.

"And he built the new shed?"

"He certainly did!"

Ingleby seemed by no means pleased. "It seems to me,"
he said severely, "that Tomlinson has been doing a good
deal here. Now, you ought to know that when you want
any improvements made you have only to ask Tom and
me."

"Could you build a chimney like that one?"

"No," said Ingleby decisively. "If I must be honest, I
don't think I could. Still, there wasn't the least occasion

114. DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

to ask Tomlinson. He must have been here more than
once ?"

"I believe he was here three or four times."

"Why did he come so often?"

Hetty laughed. "He said it was to see how Tom was
getting on with the oven."

"Of course!" said Ingleby. "Well, I suppose one ex-
cuse was as good as another. One would, however, fancy
that Tomlinson had quite enough to do looking after his
mine."

Hetty flashed a swift glance at him, but Ingleby was not
looking at her. He was too drowsy to be quite sure of what
he felt, but the fact that Tomlinson had been there on sev-
eral occasions was far from pleasing him. Just then Tom
Leger came in with the kettle which he had boiled on the
fire outside, and Ingleby roused himself.

"I suppose you have struck nothing on the claim?" he
said.

"No," said Leger. "Only a trace of colour, but I don't
want to talk of that to-night. You can tell us about your
journey when you have had supper."

Ingleby did so, though the narrative was distinctly tame
in its unvarnished conciseness until he came to his meeting
with Esmond. He had no desire that Hetty should know
what he had endured on her account, while it is, after all,
difficult to make another person understand what one feels
like when worn-out to the verge of exhaustion. Ingleby
did not attempt it, but his tone changed a trifle as he tried
to picture the policeman floundering in the river. Leger
laughed softly, but the firelight showed a little flash in
Hetty's eyes.

"Splendid!" she said, and her voice had a little vindic-
tive ring.

Leger looked up with a whimsical smile.

"You appear almost as angry with the man as Walter
was," he said.

INGLEBY'S REMONSTRANCE 115

"Well," replied Hetty sharply, "so I am."

It did not occur to Ingleby to wonder why the fact that
the policeman had attempted to drive him off the trail
should cause her so much indignation, and when Hetty
abruptly asked a question calculated to give a different
trend to the subject Leger answered her.

"I fancy I should have endeavoured to let him scrape by
if I had been there," he said. "Crowding a police officer
of that kind into a river may be soothing to one's ruffled
temper, but I can't help concluding that it's likely to turn
out expensive."

Ingleby did not answer this, and shortly afterwards re-
tired to the tent, where he spent the next ten hours in
dreamless sleep. He rose a little later than usual next
morning, but did his accustomed work at the mine, though
Leger fancied he was a trifle preoccupied during most of
the day. Shortly before they left their task in the evening
they saw Tomlinson climbing the trail to their camp with
a heavy burden on his shoulders. The miner had ap-
parently got rid of it when they met him coming back, and
smiled in a deprecatory fashion in answer to Ingleby's in-
quiring glance.

"I struck a fir that was full of resin knots when I was
chopping props," he said. "It kind of struck me Miss
Leger would have some use for them at the bakery, and I
just took one or two along."

Ingleby appeared rather more reflective than ever when
the big miner went on, and finally laid his hand on his
companion's shoulder.

" Of course, it's not exactly my business, but are you wise
in encouraging that man to prowl about the shanty con-
tinually, Tom?" he said.

Leger looked at him in astonishment. "I'm not aware of
having done it, but if it pleases him to come there why
shouldn't he?"

"I suppose.it doesn't occur to you that there is anything

116 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

■unusual in the fact that a man whose time is worth a good
deal just now should spend several hours of it hacking pine
knots out of trees and then scramble two miles with as
much as a horse could carry on his back over an infamous
trail?"

"You mean that he does not do it to please you or me?"

"Yes," said Ingleby. "That is it exactly. Of course,
I know I'm taking an unwarranted liberty, but if I had felt
that Hetty could have had any liking for him I should not
have mentioned it to you. Still, don't you think it might
be better if she didn't see so much of him?"

Leger laughed. "So far, at least, she hasn't shown the
smallest sign of recognizing the merits of the fortunate
Tomlinson."

Ingleby looked down across the pines. "We are old
friends, and you won't mind my saying that I'm very glad."

"Well," said Leger, who glanced at him sharply, "I can't
quite see why you should be. The man has an excellent
character, and I like him. He has also, what some folks
would consider of as much importance, a profitable mine."

"Still, he isn't half good enough for her," persisted
Ingleby.

Leger did not speak for a moment, and during the some-
what embarrassing silence his face grew a trifle grave. Then
he said quietly, "I fancy that is a point for Hetty to
decide."

XII

THE MAJOR'S BEAR

T\ ABKKESS had closed down on the hillside, and supper
was over, when Ingleby and Leger lounged on a cedar
log outside the shanty. Hetty lay close by in the deer-hide
chair, and Tomlinson had stretched his long limbs just
clear of the fire. He lay placidly smoking, with no more
than an occasional deferential glance at Hetty. Now and
then the flickering firelight touched his face and showed
the harsh lines of its rugged chiselling and the steadiness
of his contemplative eyes. Tomlinson, it was generally
admitted, could do more with axe and shovel than most
of the men in that valley, but a certain deliberateness of
speech and gesture characterized him in repose. He was a
man who worked the harder when it was necessary because
he seldom wasted an effort.

It was slowly he raised his head and glanced at Hetty.
"The boys can get away with another twenty loaves this
week," he said. "Jake figured you'd have seven or eight
more of them from the gully workings coming in. They
told him they'd no use for flapjacks or grindstones when
they could get bread like that."

"Very well," said Hetty. "I'll have an extra batch ready
on Saturday."

She cast a little quick glance at Ingleby, for it was grati-
fying that he should have this testimony to the quality of
her bakery, though it was scarcely necessary. The venture
had, in fact, been a success from the commencement, and
though Hetty's flour was rapidlv running out she found it

117"

118 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

just as profitable to bake what the miners brought her at
a tariff which in few other regions would have been thought
strictly moderate. She was also as popular as her bread, for
she turned nobody away, though there were men in that
valley with neither money nor provisions left who had failed
to find even the colour of gold. Her boys, she said, would
strike it rich some day, and one must risk a little now and
then; but it is not given to many women to win the faith
and homage accorded her by most of them in return for a
handful of flour. Tomlinson, however, had not delivered
all his message yet.

"I ran up against Wolverine Gordon yesterday," he said.
"He wants more salt in his bread. Says that sweet dough's
ruining his digestion, and if you can't fix it to suit him he'll
do his own baking. I guess I'd let the old insect have his
salt by the handful."

Hetty laughed good-humouredly. "I must try to please
him."

Tomlinson watched her with grave, reflective eyes.
"Gordon was 'most glad to eat cedar bark not long ago,"
he said. "Did you ever get a dollar out of him ?"

"That," said Hetty quietly, "is not your business, Mr.
Tomlinson."

The long-limbed miner apparently ruminated over this.

"Well," he said, "I guess it isn't, but you just let me
know when you want any debts collected. I figure I could
be quite smart at it."

"They do it with a gun in your country?" asked Leger.

Tomlinson held up a hard and distinctly large-sized
hand. "No, sir! If ever I get that on one of the fakirs
who sling ink at us I guess I'll make my little protest."

There was silence for a minute or two, and during it the
beat of hoofs came out of the valley. They drew nearer,
and Tomlinson laughed softly as he glanced at the listeners'
faces.

"Hall Sewell ! He's coming back," he said.

THE MAJOR'S BEAR 119

"Mr. Sewell is across the divide ever so far away," said
Hetty.

"Well," said the big prospector, "that cayuse of his is
coming up the trail 'most too played out to put its feet
down."

It was five minutes later when Sewell appeared leading
the horse, which was in almost as sorry a case as he was.
His jean garments hung about him torn to rags, and his
face was gaunt and drawn with weariness and hunger. He
stood still, smiling at them, in the uncertain light of the
fire.

"I've come back — warned off by the police as usual,"
he said. "In the language of the country, nobody seems
to have any use for me."

The naive admission appealed to Hetty as much as the
signs of privation, which were plain upon him, did, and
stirred her more than any account of a successful mission
would have done. Sewell was, perhaps, aware of this, for
he had the gift of pleasing women.

"Well," she said, "where else would you come to? When-
ever you want it there's room here for you. Walter, take
his horse, and then spread his blankets out near the fire.
Tom, you'll get another trout and fill the kettle."

They did her bidding, though Ingleby wondered a little
as he set about it, for Hetty had astonished him somewhat
frequently of late. He had long regarded her as a girl de-
void of intellectuality, to be petted with brotherly kindli-
ness and taken care of in case of necessity, and it had never
occurred to him until he came to Canada that there was
any depth of character in Hetty Leger. It was, in fact,
almost disconcerting to find that she had changed into a
capable woman who had by her enterprize alone enabled him
and her brother to hold on to their claim. She was vir-
tually mistress now, as the commands she had given him
indicated; but, while it afforded him a gratification he

120 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

did not quite understand to do her bidding, it was a trifle
difficult to accustom himself to the position.

In the meanwhile Tomlinson, who chafed inwardly be-
cause no commands had been laid on him, lay, with respect-
ful admiration, watching her prepare Sewell's supper.
When it was ready Sewell made an excellent meal, and then
stretched himself out wearily on a pile of branches near
the fire. The red light flickered uncertainly upon the
towering trunks behind him, and now and then fell upon
the long-limbed Tomlinson lying in the shadow and Hetty
sitting in her deer-hide chair with Ingleby and Leger
stretched close at her feet. It never occurred to her that
there was anything anomalous in this. They were, in the
phraseology of the country, her boys, and though Hetty
Leger was far from clever she had the comprehension that
comes of sympathy, and she understood and ruled them as
a woman with greater intellect probably could not have
done. The night was cool and still, and the hoarse murmur
of the river came up in pulsations across the pines.

"After a long journey through the bush this is excep-
tionally nice, even though it is a little rough on Miss
Leger," said Sewell, with a quiet smile. "Her cares are
increasing, for another of her boys has come home a trifle
the worse for wear to-night, but I scarcely think she minds.
It is the women who never do mind that are worth all the
rest."

Once more Ingleby was astonished and gratified. Sewell
was, of course, a speaker by profession, but there was a
vibration in his voice which signified that this was more
than a passing compliment. Ingleby believed implicitly
in Sewell, and the fact that the man he looked up to should
regard Hetty as he evidently did had naturally its effect on
him, since it not infrequently needs the appreciation of
others to make clear the value of that which lies nearest
to one. Hetty, however, as usual evinced no originality.

THE MAJOR'S BEAR 121

"When yon came in one would have fancied it was qnite
a long while since you were a boy," she said.

"Now and then I feel it is. Men who lead the life I do
grow old rapidly, you see. We are, in fact, nurtured on
the storm, but that is really no reason why we shouldn't
occasionally like to rest in the sunshine."

"It has been dark 'most an hour," said Tomlinson the
practical.

Sewell turned and glanced at him reproachfully. "It is
always sunshine where Hetty Leger is."

"Well," said Hetty, with a little laugh, "you haven't
seen me when the dough won't rise, and I don't like idle
bovs. They get into mischief. What are you going to
do*?"

"Peg down a claim and earn my living virtuously. I
have, you see, tried mining already. I like this end of the
valley, and because you have made me one of the family
I fancy I'll put up a shanty here. That brings on the ques-
tion of provisions, and when I was clambering down the
range I came upon two or three black-tail deer. I'm going
back to get one as soon as the stiffness has worn off me.
Will you or Leger come with me, Ingleby?"

"Walter will go," said Hetty.

Ingleby turned towards her slowly, and she noticed the
jaded look in his face, which was a trifle hollow as well as
bronzed. He had toiled with a fierce, feverish impatience
for long weeks at two profitless claims, and mind and body
felt the strain. Still, he remembered that it was some
time since he had contributed anything to the common
fund.

"I've ever so much on hand," he said. "Send Tom."

Hetty made a little authoritative gesture. "Tom couldn't
hit a deer to save his life, and my boys are expected to do
what they're told. You will take him, Mr. Sewell, and if
you let him come back to the claim in less than a week I'll
be vexed with yon."

122 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Ingleby, who knew that Hetty could be persistent, per-
mitted Sewell to arrange the expedition; and when the
latter retired shortly afterwards, Tomlinson, who had said
very little, looked up.

"You like that man ?" he asked.

"Of course !" said Hetty. "If I hadn't I wouldn't have
had him here."

Tomlinson said nothing further, but Hetty laughed when
he glanced inquiringly at Ingleby.

"You needn't ask Walter. There are two people he be-
lieves in before anybody else, and Mr. Sewell's one of
them."

"And I guess I know who the other is," said Tomlinson,
who was a trifle tactless now and then.

Hetty looked at him instead of at Ingleby.

"No," she said reflectively, "I don't think you do. It
doesn't matter who she is, anyway, and you haven't told
me what you think of Mr. Sewell."

Tomlinson, who watched her with steady eyes, sat silent
a moment as though ruminating over something he could
not quite understand. Then he said, "The man has grit.
Still, I haven't much use for his notion of going round
trailing out trouble."

"It isn't difficult to find it," said Ingleby.

"Well," said Tomlinson, "I'm not going to light out
when it comes along my way; but I guess I'll wait until
it does, like a sensible man, and just now I have no use for
any. Our folks in Oregon are poor, and if my luck holds
out there's an old woman who's had 'bout as much trouble
as she can bear going to have an easy time the rest of her
life."

He stopped a moment and rose leisurely to his feet.
"Well, I'll go along now. I guess Sewell means well.
Good night."

He turned away, and when he lumbered into the shadow
of the pines Leger smiled at Ingleby.

THE MAJOR'S BEAR 123

"It seems to me that Tomlinson's recommendation didn't
go very far," he said.

Ingleby laughed, a trifle scornfully. "IKd yon expect
anything else? When a man who conld have made him-
self almost anything he wished gives himself np to a life of
privation for the good of his fellows, it's a little gained
when men of Tomlinson's description are willing to admit
that he probably has good intentions."

He retired to sleep shortly afterwards, for he and Leger
commenced their labours at sunrise every day. A week
later, towards dusk one evening, he and Sewell stopped
near the edge of a deep ravine some distance from their
camp in the ranges.

The torrent which had worn it out moaned far down in
the shadow below, and the sombre firs rolled up to the edge
of it two hundred yards away. Thickets of tall fern and
salmon-berry hung over the brink, and for a score of yards
or so a slope of soil and gravel sprinkled with tufts of
juniper and dwarf firs ran down steeper than a roof. Then
it broke off abruptly, and from where they stood Ingleby
could not see the bottom of the gulf beneath, though he
knew that the depth of such canons is often several hun-
dred feet. They had left their camp that morning, and
one small black-tail deer, which Sewell had shot, was all
they had to show for a day of strenuous labour.

"No way of getting across there," said Sewell as he flung
himself down at the foot of a cedar. "It's a little unfor-
tunate, too, because from what Tomlinson said if s a good
bear country on the opposite side. One deer won't last
very long even if we can manage to dry it, and there are
parts of the black bear that are a good deal nicer than you
might suppose."

"Have you ever tried them?" asked Ingleby.

Sewell laughed. "I have. In fact, I lived on black
bear for rather longer than I cared about when I was up
in the ranges once before. It's not unlike pork. I mean

124 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

the kind the Canadian nsually keeps for home consump-
tion."

That a man, who conld probably get nothing else, should
have lived on bear meat is, of course, not necessarily any
great recommendation, but the fact tended to increase
Ingleby's respect for his companion. There was, it seemed,
very little that Sewell had not done or borne for the cause
of the Democracy, and Ingleby had already indued him
with the qualities of Garibaldi. Other men, older and
shrewder than he was, are, however, occasionally addicted
to idealization; and Sewell could certainly ride and shoot
as well as he could rouse the hopes and passions of the mul-
titude— which was a good deal. Ingleby, who could do
neither, had the Englishman's appreciation of physical ca-
pability, and it had once or twice been a grief to him to
discover that other exponents of the opinions Sewell helrl
were flabby, soft-fleshed men whose appearance warranted
the belief that the adoption of the simple laborious life they
lauded would promptly make an end of them.

The hard and wiry Sewell, who, while he preached his
gospel, earned his bread by bodily toil, a man of comely
presence and finished courtesy, Spartanly temperate in
everything but speech, with unquestioned physical as well
as moral courage, approached in his opinion the Paulinian
ideal. It was, however, seldom that he permitted it to be-
come apparent, for Ingleby, like most men who shape their
lives by them, kept his deeper thoughts to himself, and on
that occasion he complained about a boot which had split in
an untimely fashion at a seam, until Sewell looked up.

"Did you hear anything?" he asked.

Ingleby, who had not lived very long in the bush, natu-
rally heard nothing until the sudden crash of a rifle was
flung back by the hillside. Then there was a sharp smash-
ing of undergrowth, and it was plain to him that a beast of
eome description was travelling through the bush.

"A bear!" exclaimed Sewell. "The small black kind go

THE MAJOR'S BEAR 125

straight at everything which lies between them and their
covert. I fancy that one's partly crippled, too. It's your
shot. If he breaks cover you might stop him for the man
he belongs to."

Ingleby took up the rifle he was not greatly accustomed
to, and waited, crouching, with his eyes on the forest and
one foot drawn under him while the snapping and crack-
ling drew nearer, until a shambling form lurched out of a
thicket. Then, while the foresight, which he could not keep
still, wobbled all over it, he pressed the trigger, or, at least,
attempted to do so as the miner to whom the rifle belonged
had instructed him. He felt the butt jar his shoulder, and
the smoke blew in his eyes, while a man burst out of the
undergrowth. There was no sign of the bear, and Ingleby
fancied it had plunged over the edge of the ravine. The
man was red in face, and gasped as he brandished his rifle
in their direction.

"Who the devil are you trying to shoot?" he said.

He did not stop, however; and Sewell, who recognized
him as Major Coulthurst, sprang to his feet, and sent a
warning shout alter him.

"Hold on, sir. There's a big gully right in front of
you," he said.

The major did not seem to hear him, and next moment
there was a crash as he floundered through a thicket.
Then he disappeared suddenly, and Ingleby felt a little
shiver run through him as he heard a suggestive rattle of
stones.

"Gone over!" he said hoarsely. "Still, the top part's
not quite so horribly steep."

They made for the spot at a floundering run, for it is
a trifle difficult to travel fast imthe bush, and came gasping
to a rent in the undergrowth on the edge of the gully.
Ingleby set his lips as he looked down.

The major, who looked up at them with fear in his eyes,
lay full length on the steepest part of the slope beneath,

126 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

with both hands clenched upon a little bush of juniper.
Two or three yards beneath him lay a shadowy gulf, and
the dull roar of water that came up suggested its depth.

"I think this thing is coming out," he said,

Ingleby saw a diminutive fir close to the man, and two
more between himself and the edge of the canon, for in
that country the firs will grow on anything short of an
upright wall, and next moment he swung himself over the
edge. However, he did it cautiously, taking care to drive
his feet well into the gravel, and finally contrived to slide
down to the nearest tree. Sewell was evidently coming
down behind him, for the stones went rattling by and struck
the upturned face beneath. It was flushed and distorted,
with swollen veins on the forehead, for the man was evi-
dently feeling the strain.

"Can you hold on for a minute or two, sir?" Ingleby
asked.

"I might manage one — not more," was the hoarse answer.

"That should do," said Ingleby reassuringly, and letting
himself go again clutched at the tree close above the brink
of the declivity. He also grasped Sewell, who was coming
down backwards amidst a shower of stones ; and, when he
arrived safe, lay full length with his comrade's hand upon
his waist and one arm stretched out. Nor did he stop to
consider whether he could get back to the tree again when
the major clutched his hand.

"Hold fast, and we'll pull you up," he said.

Next moment a strenuous grip closed upon his hand,
and he felt his arm being drawn out of its socket as he
strove to bend his back. Coulthurst was horribly heavy and
apparently incapable of rendering him any assistance.
Indeed, for a moment or two he was far from sure that they
would not slide down into the shadowy gorge together.
He could see the majors suffused face and hear Sewell
gasping behind him.

Then Coulthurst, apparently by a supreme effort, raised

THE MAJOR'S BEAR 127

himself a trifle, and he was a foot or two nearer the fir
•when he lay prone again. Ingleby fancied he could feel
his sinews cracking, and knew they would not endure that
tension long.

"Reach your left hand back!" said Sewell hoarsely.

Ingleby did so, and fslt the bark of the slender tree,
while Sewell leaned out recklessly over him and clutched
Coulthurst's shoulder. Then, for a few seconds, they
made a very grim effort, until the major got one foot under
him and seized the tree. After that there was no great
difficulty, and when they dragged him out of peril he lay
still, gasping, for almost a minute. Then he raised him-
self so that he could sit.

"I think my rifle went over," he said. "Where's the
bear?"

SewelPs eyes twinkled, and Ingleby laughed, as did the
major.

"Of course!" he said. "Very much obliged, I'm sure.
I mean it. But — where is — the bear?"

Personal peril was not exactly a new thing to the major,
who was also a man of fixed ideas; but he made a little
comprehensive gesture when Sewell glanced significantly
at the edge of the precipice.

"I don't know, sir, and really don't think an attempt
to find out would be advisable," he said.

As a matter of fact, they never did discover what became
of the bear; but in the meanwhile nobody said anything
further for a moment or two. Then the major rubbed his
leg.

"We couldn't very well stay here all' night — and I've
hurt my knee," he said.

Ingleby glanced at the almost precipitous descent. "I'm
afraid we couldn't get you up without a rope."

"I am quite satisfied that you couldn't, and don't pro-
pose to let you try," said the major. "There are, however,
the pack-horse lariats at my camp, and it can't be more

128 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

than two miles away. I have a police trooper there. One
of you could get up?"

Ingleby fancied that it was within his powers.

"I'll try, sir, if it's only because I believe I came very
near shooting you," he said.

Coulthurst laughed. "You were within an ace of it."

Ingleby said nothing further, but crawled very cautiously
up the slope.

XIII

ESMOND ACQUIKES INFORMATION"

T NGLEBY contrived to discover Coulthurst's camp, and
when a police trooper carrying a stout lariat accompan-
ied him back to the ravine they had some little difficulty
in transporting the major, who was no light weight, to the
surface. It was, however, safely accomplished, and Ingleby
was not greatly astonished to hear he had in the meanwhile
insisted upon their spending at least that night in his com-
modious tent. Sewell possessed the useful faculty of mak-
ing a good impression upon almost anybody, and generally
exercised it, even when it did not appear worth while.

They spent the next day with the major, who extended
them a bluff but cordial invitation to visit him at his
official residence, which Ingleby, for reasons of his own,
promised to do. He was, however, a little astonished that
Sewell, who had not his inducement, and could scarcely
be expected to consider Major Coulthurst's patronage any
particular compliment, should evince an equal alacrity,
Still, he did not feel warranted in inquiring his comrade's
reasons, and promptly forgot all about it when a few days
later he and Leger bottomed upon gold. It was not a rich
find. Indeed, they laboriously transported and washed
down a good many hundred-weights of debris in return for
an insignificant quantity of the precious metal ; but it was
sufficient to fill Ingleby with fresh ardour, and he length-
ened his hours of toil until it was with difficulty he dragged
himself back at night to the camp on the hillside. Every

129

130 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

stroke of pick and drill brought him so much nearer the
realization of his aspirations.

Leger protested now and then, but Hetty, who was
wiser, said nothing, though there were times when she
watched Ingleby, who naturally never suspected it, with
anxious eyes. The physical strain and tension were com-
mencing to tell on him, for even the experienced placer
miner seldom knows whether the next few strokes of the
shovel will bring him wealth or make it evident that he
has thrown his toil away.

There, however, came an evening when Ingleby desisted
early in order to redeem his promise to Coulthurst, and
when he had made what he felt was a very insufficient
toilet Sewell, who had pegged out a claim in the vicinity,
arrived at the bakery. Hetty and Leger were sitting, as
usual at that hour, beside the fire, and there was a little
twinkle in the latter's eyes as he glanced at Sewell.

"I suppose," he said, "Major Coulthurst knows whom
he is to have the pleasure of entertaining."

Sewell laughed. "I felt it my duty to inform him; but
my name did not seem to convey very much to him. In
fact, I don't mind admitting that one could have fancied
he had never heard of it. Then, having a certain sense of
fitness, I endeavoured to make him understand what my
views were. They didn't appear to affect him greatly,
either. He was good enough to predict that I would prob-
ably grow out of them."

"He hasn't told you all," Ingleby broke in. "Major
Coulthurst graciously admitted that most men are oc-
casionally afflicted with fancies of the kind when they are
young. No sensible person minded it. He had even in-
dulged in them himself when his colonel had been unMuly
hard on him, and he seemed quite under the impression that
people generally took to our opinions by way of protest
when they fancied themselves badly used."

For a moment it almost seemed to Ingleby that Sewell's

ESMOND ACQUIRES INFORMATION 131

face hardened, and he remembered that his comrade had
appeared faintly disconcerted when the major expressed
this view in camp. It had naturally not occurred to In-
gleby that Major Coulthurst's deductions, like those of
other men with no great appearance of intelligence, might
come near the truth now and then. Hetty, who was look-
ing at Sewell, did not, however, appear to notice anything
unusual.

"So you told him who you really were?" she asked.

Sewell, for no very evident reason, stooped and flicked
a little dust off one of his boots, and it was a few moments
later when he looked up with a smili.

"I think you heard me mention it," he said. "You are
ready, Ingleby?"

Ingleby stood up, with a somewhat rueful glance, not
altogether unwarranted, at his attire. He did not know
what Hetty meant, and felt no great interest in the ques-
tion, for he had a supreme faith in one man and one
woman, and if he had discovered that Sewell had been
charged with felony it would not have concerned him
greatly. He would have believed in him, almost in spite
of the evidences of his senses.

Coulthurst received them cordially when they reached
his little log-built dwelling, which stood not far from the
police outpost beyond the canon where a tremendous wall
of hillside shut in the adjacent valley. That region, while
unpleasantly remote from civilization, was still accessible,
and the Gold Commissioners' quarters were, considering
their situation, far from uncomfortable. There was even
a very artistic set of chessmen at which Coulthurst glanced
during a pause in the conversation.

"I was once in a native Indian state, and those pieces
are a little memento," he said. "They played the game
rather well there, and I've had a liking for it ever since."

Now Ingleby's father had also played chess well, and he
knew a little of the game ; but he was accustomed to yield

132 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

his comrade priority and was more than usually content to
do so that evening. Sewell, who seemed to understand this,
smiled.

"Fm afraid I should make a very indifferent opponent,
sir, but that is your affair," he said.

Coulthurst drew out a little table with some alacrity,
and Grace and Ingleby found a place apart from them.
The latter made no great attempt at conversation, for he
was worn-out by a long day's toil and quite content to be
there and listen to his companion. Ingleby could talk when
he felt prompted to; but, like other men with the capacity
for strenuous effort, he could be silent without embarrassing
himself or those about him.

In the meanwhile the surroundings had their effect on
him. The soft light of the big shaded lamp was pleasant
after the glare of the crackling fire; the hangings that hid
door and windows conveyed to one who had lived as he
had done a suggestion of comfort and luxury ; and his eyes
did not miss the fashion in which each trifle brought up
through long leagues of forest on the pack-saddle had been
arranged. Grace Coulthurst had artistic tastes, and she
had also, to some extent, the means of indulging them.

It was, however, her propinquity that most affected him.
Her daintiness appealed to his senses, and the faint per-
fume that hung about her and the touch of her gown when
it brushed against him sent a little thrill through him.
Miss Coulthurst was possibly not unaware of this, but she
was none the less gracious to him. Ingleby was a well-
favoured man, and physical effort and endurance with a
wholesome singleness of purpose had set a stamp on him
that almost amounted to distinction. Athletic toil and
plain living, with the moral discipline which binds the
worn-out flesh in obedience to the will, have a refining
influence on most men, and there was in Ingleby's gaunt
face, steady eyes, and clear, bronzed skin the faint sugges-
tion of spirituality which in that country, at least, not in-

ESMOND ACQUIRES INFORMATION 133

frequently characterizes even the placer miner of low
degree. Grace Coulthurst, who had quick perceptions,
recognized it, hut naturally kept her impressions to herself.

"Mr. Sewell plays chess very well," she said. "In fact,
he made what seemed to me a really brilliant opening."

"He is one of the men who do everything that is worth
while well," said Ingleby. "That sounds a little compre-
hensive, but I almost think it's no more than the fact."

Grace asked no very pertinent question that Ingleby
could remember; but she nevertheless induced him to speak
of his comrade, which, being simple of mind in some re-
spects, he had evident pleasure in doing. In the mean-
while she watched the man at the chess-table, and it
seemed to her that part, at least, of his friend's belief in
him was justified. Sewell's face was expressive and mobile
as well as forceful, and there was a subtle suggestive grace-
fulness in his speech and gesture which was not to be found
in Ingleby's. Then she smiled, and changed the subject.

"I wonder," she said, "why he sacrificed the castle?"

"The knight," said Ingleby gravely, "was certainly
not a very good exchange."

Grace laughed. "I scarcely think you would ever, as
they say in this country, go back on a friend. My father,
as he said, is fond of the game, but that doesn't go very
far, after all."

"He plays it creditably."

"And Mr. Sewell, as you are quite aware, plays it
exceptionally well. I wonder if he realizes that the major
is not fond of losing."

Ingleby smiled as he again glanced round the room.
Then he turned to her, the origin and complement of its
refinement, and she read his thoughts without difficulty.

"I scarcely think that anybody who knows how we live
would blame him," he said.

Grace laughed. "Then," she said, "as I'm not quite
sure that I know, suppose you tell me."

134. DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Ingleby did so in simple fashion, and it is probable that
most young women would not have found his story enter-
taining. Grace Coulthurst, who had lived in the bush, how-
ever, had comprehension and could fill in a good deal that
he did not supply. It was also, in its own way, to one who
knew that country, an epic, a recital of man's high en-
deavour and herculean grapple with untrammelled nature,
for in the struggle for the subjugation of the wilderness v
the placer miner leads the van. The smothering rush of
slipping gravel, the crash of shattered props as the little
shaft closed up, and the unexpected fall of half-charred
trees had a place in it, as well as the monotony of toil, and
the girl listened gravely.

"And you have found the gold?" she said.

"A little," said Ingleby, "but not half enough. We have
failed to bottom quite on the old creek bed, and are going
to sink again or drive an adit."

The mention of insufficiency was in itself significant,
for though he had spoken no word in Canada that could
afford the slightest hint of the aspirations that had ani-
mated him Grace was quite aware of them. There are not
many women who do not know when a man is in love
with them.

"But there are only two of you, and it will take you ever
60 long," she said.

"Still, we will get it done," and there was a curious
brightness in Ingleby's eyes.

Grace noticed the hollowness of his quiet face and the
leanness of his hard, scarred hands., and her heart grew
soft towards him. The sign of the strain was plain upon
him, though the breaking point had not yet been reached,
and it was for her that he had done so much.

"And you expect the effort will be warranted?" she said.

Ingleby turned and looked at her gravely.

"Men get rich placer mining now and then, and it might
happen to me," he said. "In fact, I almost think from

ESMOND ACQUIRES INFORMATION 135

■what one or two of the old prospectors tell me that I am
going to be successful. I don't know if you will understand
me, but after a life like mine the probability of being so
is a little overwhelming."

There was a tension in his voice which had its effect
upon the girl, and she sat silent for a moment or two until
the major's voice broke sharply in on them.

"Check! I fancied at one time the game was in your
hands, but there's seldom much use in anticipating when
there are points you can't foresee," he said.

Grace glanced at Ingleby, who smiled.

"I'm afraid Major Coulthurst is right. One can only
wait," he said.

Just then there was a tapping at the door, and Ingleby
moved abruptly when Esmond came in. The officer, how-
ever, showed no sign of astonishment when he saw who
was there, but smiled as he looked at Grace, and turned
to the major.

"I have just come across for a few minutes, and will not
disturb you, sir," he said. "I don't suppose you have any
objections to my looking over your register?"

"Xo," said Coulthurst. "It's yonder. Has anything
gone wrong?"

Esmond's eyes rested for just a moment on Sewell.
"Only two or three of the men talking rather wildly, sir.
Somebody has been putting notions into their heads. It
occurred to me I might as well make sure they all had cer-
tificates."

"Quite right!" said Coulthurst appreciatively. "I have
decided objections to their doing me out of my money."

Esmond took down the register, which was not remark-
ably well kept, and had some little trouble in tracing out
the information he desired. At last, however, he read,
" Thomas Leger, Free miner's certificate, Five dollars ; also
Five dollars, Walter Ingleby."

He made a careful note of the date, and then turned over

136 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

the pages systematically. Later on he found, "Walter
Ingleby, Five dollars," hut there was no further entry for
Leger. Then he put the hook back, and the major glanced
at him.

"Check!" he said. "I almost think I've got you, Mr.
Sewell. You found what you wanted, Reggie ?"

"Yes, sir," said Esmond, whose eyes now rested on
Grace and Ingleby. "I fancy I have."

He crossed the room in a leisurely fashion, and Ingleby
rose when Grace turned to him.

"You have no doubt come across Mr. Ingleby in the
course of your duties, Reggie, but I should like to present
him formally as one of my friends," she said.

Esmond made Ingleby, who responded as briefly, a little
curt inclination.

"I have," he said, "certainly met Mr. Ingleby at least
twice already."

"I believe I remember one occasion," said Grace, with
a little twinkle in her eyes. She had naturally not heard
of the second encounter. "I'm not sure you were in quite
as good a temper as usual that night. Still, you see, cir-
cumstances are very different now."

Esmond laughed, but there was a dryness in his tone
which Ingleby afterwards remembered.

" Circumstances have a trick of changing somewhat rap-
idly in this country," he said. "You have, I believe, bot-
tomed on gold, Mr. Ingleby?"

"Yes," said Ingleby.

"You struck it rich?"

"No," said Ingleby. "Still, the signs are promising.
We hope to be more fortunate when we have driven our
adit."

"How long do you expect to be over it?"

"It is a little difficult to tell."

Esmond appeared to reflect, and Grace, who watched
him, did not quite understand his face.

ESMOND ACQUIRES INFORMATION 13T

"Well," he said, "I suppose placer mining is always a
trifle uncertain. One would almost fancy that baking was
more profitable. Your friend Miss Leger seems to be doing
well, or is it your venture ?"

Ingleby wondered if this was meant for Miss Coulthurst's
enlightenment ; but he could not very well permit his dis-
like of the man, who would seize such an opportunity, to
become apparent then, and there was also something in
Esmond's tone which suggested that he might, after all,
have a different purpose. Unfortunately, he had no notion
of what that purpose was.

"She is," he said quietly, "selling a good deal of bread."

"At excellent prices! Still, she probably deserves all
she gains. It would cost a good deal to bring flour up.
How did she get it?"

Ingleby was a little astonished at the man's persistence,
and Grace noticed it.

"Are you going to turn baker, too?" she asked.

Esmond laughed in a fashion which brought the blood
to Ingleby's face. Still, he answered the man's question.

"I went down for it," he said.

Just then the major's voice broke in again. "A very
good fight, Mr. Sewell. I scarcely think I could have
beaten you if you hadn't let me see your game. However
strong your position is, that is very seldom wise."

"Major Coulthurst," said Esmond, "is now and then
astonishingly accurate. One could generalize from such
a speech as that. But to resume the topic, wasn't it a
little careless of you, Ingleby ? You invalidate your record
when you leave a placer claim."

Ingleby, secure, as he fancied, smiled. "Leger," he said,
"holds a share with me."

"Of course!" said Esmond, as though the subject had
no longer any interest to him. " So you left Leger ! Well,
I must get back to the outpost now. Grace, you will ex-
cuse me."

138 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He went out, and while Grace entertained Ingleby the
major and Sewell, who lost again, played another game.
Then she made and served them coffee with her own hands,
and Ingleby, at least, went back to his tent filled with the
memory of how she did it.

In the meanwhile Grace, sitting by the fir« when he had
gone away, glanced at her father.

"I wonder," she said, "what you think of Mr. Sewell?"

"The man," said Coulthurst, "is, in spite of the opinions
he seems to hold, evidently a gentleman ; I can't think of
a more appropriate word for it. There is also, I fancy, a
good deal more in him than any one who was not good at
reading character might suppose. He plays chess excep-
tionally well. In fact, almost as well as I do."

Grace smiled a little. "I fancied he did," she said.
"Were you equally pleased with his companion?"

"Yes," said the major reflectively. "He strikes me as
sensible and solid — and one has a fancy that there's often
a screw loose somewhere about brilliant men. They are
apt to — double up unexpectedly — when the strain comes.
The other kind I always find are more likely to wear well."

Grace laughed, but made no observation. Major Coul-
thurst, as she was quite aware, was almost painfully solid
himself, but he had, at least, stood the rough usage of a
hard world remarkably well, and she was disposed to admit
the correctness of his opinion. Still, there was, in spite of
his name, something about Sewell that Ingleby did not
possess which appealed to her.

XIV

THE NECESSAKY INCENTIVE

\X7HI~LiE Ingleby and Sewell made their way back to
their tent Esmond sat thoughtfully in his comfort-
less room at the outpost, cigar in hand. He felt distinctly
pleased with his astuteness, but he was by no means sure
what use he would make of the information Ingleby had
somewhat unwisely supplied him. Esmond was merely a
capable police officer with certain defects in his character,
and not a clever scoundrel. In fact, he had his good points,
or he would not have retrieved his credit, in a service which
demands a good deal from those who would rise in it, after
becoming involved in difficulties in England; but he was
arrogant, vindictive, and apt to be carried away by his
passions.

He disliked Ingleby, and would in any circumstances
have found it difficult to forgive the miner for having twice
caused him to appear at a disadvantage, while the fact that
Grace Coulthurst had shown Ingleby some degree of favour
was an almost worse offence. Esmond had the prejudices
that occasionally characterize men of his station, and it
seemed to him distinctly unfitting that the Gold Commis-
sioner's daughter should patronize, as he expressed it, a
placer miner. He was not exactly in love with her, though
he had once come near being so, but he cherished a tender-
ness for her which might in favourable circumstances have
ripened. The circumstances were not, however, favourable,
for there was a certain stain on his reputation which he
fancied Major Coulthurst, at least, remembered.

139

140 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

It was therefore pleasant to feel that he held the whip
over the presumptuous miner, and could apply it when
advisable, though he had in the meanwhile no very definite
purpose of domg so. It was not his business to see that
Major Coulthurst carried out the mining laws, and, in any
case, Ingleby had found no gold that would render the se-
questration of his claim a matter of very much moment ;
besides which Esmond reflected that it would be consider-
ably more congenial to humiliate him openly in person
instead of inflicting a malicious injury on him by the hand
of another man. An opportunity would no doubt be forth-
coming, and he could afford to wait. With this commend-
able decision he flung his cigar away, and went to bed.

However, he became a little less sure that reticence was
advisable when he saw that Ingleby and Sewell visited the
Gold Commissioner every now and then; and it happened,
somewhat unfortunately, that he dismounted to take up a
stirrup leather when riding back to his outpost through the
canon one evening. Save for the hoarse roar of the river
the tremendous hollow was very still, and the sound of
voices came faintly up to him. Turning sharply, he made
out two figures among the pines, and an expletive rose to
his lips as he recognized them. One was a miner in miry
long boots and soil-stained jean, the other a girl in a light
dress.

Esmond's eyes grew a trifle vindictive as he watched
them, and though he had one foot in the stirrup he did not
obey the impulse that prompted him to swing himself to
the saddle and ride away. Instead he led the horse behind
a wide-girthed cedar and stood still, with a trace of darker
colour in his face. It was unfortunate that he did not
know Grace had met Ingleby by accident and that he could
not hear their conversation when they stopped for a few
minutes by the edge of the river.

"You have not been near us for awhile," said the girl.

"I have been busy, though I am not sure that is a very

THE NECESSARY INCENTIVE 141

good excuse/' said Ingleby. "Besides, one feels a little
diffident — in the circumstances — about presuming too much
on Major Coulthurst's kindness."

Grace laughed, though she understood the qualification.
"I am, of course, not going to press you, but come when
• you wish. The major, if one might mention it, rather ap-
proves of you, and when he and Mr. Sewell play chess
there is nobody to talk to me."

Ingleby, who had sense enough to take this admission
for what it was worth, looked thoughtful.

"Sewell," he asked, "has been there without me?"

"Once or twice."

"Then he certainly never mentioned it to me."

"Does he give you an account of everything he does?"
and Grace laughed. "How is your work at the mine pro-
gressing ?"

"Slowly. In fact, considering our appliances, we have
had almost overwhelming difficulties to contend with.
Still, one could scarcely expect you to be interested in
them."

"I am, however," and there was a faint but subtle sug-
gestion of sympathy in the girl's voice that sent a thrill
through him.

It cost him an effort to hold himself in hand ; but Ingleby
had been taught restraint in Canada, one sign of which was
that he seldom inflicted his opinions on other people. He
had decided that it would be time to let his aspirations
become apparent when he had found the gold and made
himself a position; it never occurred to him that the girl
was probably quite aware of them already. It was not an
easy thing to hide them, and, though he was growing ac-
customed to the discipline, the topic she had suggested was
a safe one.

"Well," he said, "the gold we expect to strike lies in
what was presumably an ancient river bed, though there is,
strange to say, very little of it in the Green Eiver now. It

142 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

was probably deposited there thousands of years ago, and
it is evident that we have struck only the outer edge of the
patch of sand and gravel containing it. We tried tunnel-
ling, but twice the soil came in and nearly buried Leger,
and at Tomlinson's advice we sank another shaft. All the
work had to be done again, and we often go on half the
night now. It is, I think, only a question if we can hold
out long enough, f»r winter is coming. Still, it — must —
be done."

He had not purposed to indulge in more than a very
matter-of-fact narration, and had, in one respect, certainly
not exceeded this ; but there was a curious ring in his voice ;
and Grace understood his thoughts as she flashed a swift
glance at him. His face, which was a trifle haggard, had
grown intent, and the little glint in his eyes had its mean-
ing. Grace Coulthurst recognized, as Hetty Leger had done
some time earlier, that Ingleby was toiling harder than was
wise. She also knew as well as if he had told her what pur-
pose animated him. Still, she had no intention of ad-
mitting it just then.

"I think," she said, "you should be careful not to do
too much, and if you are going back to work to-night you
must come no farther.

Ingleby protested, but Grace was resolute, and, turning,
left him standing in the trail. She walked homewards
thoughtfully with a faint trace of colour in her face, for
the man's unexpressed devotion had stirred her. Then, in
a somewhat unfortunate moment, she looked up and saw
Esmond waiting beside the trail for her. A glance at his
face sufficed to show her that he was quite aware she had
not come there alone, and roused in her a curious sense of
antagonism. It had become evident to her already that he
bore no particular good will toward Ingleby.

"The view is really worth even your attention," she said.

Esmond knew what the suggestion of hardness in her
tone meant, and smiled as he glanced down the froth-

THE NECESSARY INCENTIVE 143

smeared river towards the tremendous rift in the rocks
through which it thundered. Beyond it the mists were
streaming across the deep valley and crawling filmily
athwart the pines that climbed in serried battalions to-
wards the gleaming snow.

"It is. In fact, I scarcely think I could improve on it ;
but it was not the view that kept me here," he said.

"No?" and Grace's voice was a trifle harder still.

Esmond looked at her steadily. "I had," he said, "the
pleasure of seeing you coming down the canon — a little
while ago."

His meaning was very plain, but he had given her an
opportunity, for Grace had noticed that the cedar he stood
near was great of girth and the undergrowth was trampled
at one side of it. The man winced as she moved forward
a little and glanced at it.

"I suppose," she asked, with quiet contempt, "that was
why you thought it necessary to lead your horse out of
the trail?"

Esmond, who had not expected affairs to take this turn,
fumed inwardly. He was not quite sure why he had
stayed there at all, but in his indignation he had become
possessed by a vague and very senseless notion that a
friendly remonstrance might be admissible, and, at least,
afford him an opportunity for expressing his opinion of
Ingleby. He was, of course, by no means a clever man,
and angry at the time, or he would never have made that
mistake; but his purpose was not altogether a base or
selfish one. Grace Coulthurst, who was of his own station,
must, he felt, be guarded against herself, and, since there
was apparently nobody else available, he undertook the task.
He became vindictive, however, when he realized that it
would be difficult to carry out his commendable purpose.

"I think we need not go into that," he said. "Perhaps
I did wrong, but it would only lead us away from the topic
I want to talk about. Has it occurred to you that unless

144. DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

you put a stop to his presumption that miner fellow might
get ideas into his head?"

Grace appreciated his courage in persisting, especially in
view of the result of her previous thrust; but while she
was not exactly sure of her sentiments towards Ingleby, he
was, at least, the man who loved her, which counted a good
deal in his favour. Esmond, she was quite aware, chiefly
loved himself.

"Isn't that a trifle vague? What ideas do you mean?"
she asked.

Esmond stood silent a moment or two, for his task was
becoming unpleasantly difficult; but his bitterness against
Ingleby rashly determined him to go on.

"I should prefer not to be more definite — and I'm not
sure that it is necessary," he said. "Still, one might, per-
haps, venture to warn you that the miners and my troopers,
who, of course, have eyes, have already found an enter-
taining topic."

Grace Coulthurst's face grew a trifle colourless with
anger, though she did not quite believe him.

"So you can listen while your policemen discuss — me?"
she said.

"No," said Esmond unguardedly. "I would have risked
my commission by thrashing the man I heard mention
you."

A sardonic gleam crept into Grace's eyes. "Then, since
you haven't done it, it is a little difficult to understand how
you could be aware of what they are saying."

The man's embarrassment was evident, but it lasted only
a moment, and he made a little abrupt gesjhire.

"I'm no match for you at this game, Grace," he said.
"Of course, I'm taking a great liberty, but if you think
a little you might find some excuse for me."

" For playing the spy on me ?"

Esmond's lips set tight, and the bronze in his cheeks
took on a still deeper tinge ; but there was, as is usually the

THE NECESSARY INCENTIVE 14-5

case, good as well as evil in him, and he was to some extent
endeavouring just then to discharge what he considered a
duty.

"I suppose I deserve it, and I am in your hands, but you
can be angry with me afterwards if you will let me speak.
We are old friends, and I feel that implies a certain re-
sponsibility. There is nobody else in this country except
the major who would concern himself about you, and he,
with all due respect to him, seldom sees beyond his nose."

There was a suggestion of genuine solicitude in his voice
now, but Grace was, unfortunately, far from being con-
ciliated.

''And you possess the faculty of seeing very much
farther?"

Esmond made a little deprecatory gesture. "In this
case, at least. You see, I know the presumption of those
half-trained fellows of Ingleby's description, and I would
like to save you the unpleasantness I think you are court-
ing. There are times when one has to be candid. The
fellow is quite capable of fancying you are in love with
him."

He stopped, for there was a red spot of anger in Grace
Coulthurst's cheek, which was otherwise curiously colour-
less.

"I think," she said incisively, "you had better change
the topic. You have gone quite far enough."

Esmond gazed at her with evident appreciation. She
had never seemed so alluring to him as she did just then
while she stood very straight in front of him quivering a
little with ill-suppressed anger. In fact, he felt very far
from sure that he was not in love with her. Still, he
persisted.

"It would have been less preposterous had he been a
man with any education or nicety of feeling; but ycu have
even to take his antecedents on trust, and a good many of
the men here have a somewhat astonishing historv."

146 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Grace stopped him with a little imperious gesture. "I
have heard enough/' she said. "In fact, a good deal more
than I shall probably ever forgive you. Besides, it was
scarcely advisable of you to allude to other people's ante-
cedents. One would have fancied that you had a better
memory."

Esmond closed one of his hands, for he had almost hoped
that Grace had not heard of the little discreditable affair in
England. The contempt in her face made the fact that he
had deceived himself unpleasantly plain.

"I scarcely think that is quite what one would have
expected from you," he said. "A little charity is always
advisable — and you may find it indispensable."

He swung himself into the saddle, and Grace went on
alone, well content that he had gone, but nevertheless won-
dering whether she had ventured too far on Ingleby's be-
half, for she realized that the rejoinder which had closed
the discussion was not altogether excusable. She did not
care to ask herself why Esmond's insinuations should have
stirred her to an indignation that was stronger than her
sense of what was fitting.

Esmond rode back to the outpost furious, and, since he
could not retaliate on the girl, decided to seize the first
opportunity for injuring the man, and he had reasons
for believing that one would shortly be offered him. It is,
however, probable that he would never have profited by it
had not the girl stung him to vindictive passion. It was,
though she was not aware of it, by no means a kindness
Grace Coulthurst had done Ingleby.

XV

INGLEBY STRIKES IT RICH

T T was late at night, but the red light of a fire flickered
among the trunks where a creek swirled across the
bottom of the valley, and Leger, who had just flung fresh
branches upon it, leaned against the rude windlass at the
head of the adjacent shaft. The roar of the river seemed
to have sunk to a lower tone that night, and save for its
dull reverberations there was deep silence among the pines
across which the fleecy mists were drifting. It seemed to
emphasize the harshness of the persistent clink of the pick
which broke sharply though the stillness of the night.

Leger was stiff in every joint, and his limbs were aching
from a long day's labour. He was also wet with the dew
and now and then shivered a little, for the night air was
chilled by the snow ; but he scarcely noticed this as he lis-
tened to the sound of his comrade's toil below. He had
not Ingleby's incentive, but it is probable that very few
men would have concerned themselves much about weariness
or discomfort just then. The shaft they had painfully
driven had at last reached, or was very close upon, the
ancient river bed, and now any stroke of the pick might
make the result of their labour plain to them. It might be
disastrous failure or a competence for the rest of their days,
and the oldest prospector could have done no more than
guess at the probabilities. Placer mining is a gamble in
which, in the Northwest, at least, man stakes the utmost
toil of his body, and often his life, on the chance of finding
a very uncertain quantity of the precious metal.

147

148 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

At last the tension grew almost unendurable, and Leger,
worn-out as he was, felt his courage fail him. His body
craved sleep, and he dreaded the answer to the question
which had occupied him ceaselessly for the last few days.
He felt that should it be unfavourable he could hardly face
it then, and even the harrowing uncertainty was better than
a negative.

"Come up, Walter. I'm getting cold," he said.

There was a harsh laugh below, and a voice that sounded
strained and hollow rose from the shaft.

"Then sit by the fire!" it said.

"Come up!" said Leger sharply. "If you must have
the truth, I've borne about as much as you could expect of
me to-day. We'll probably know the result soon enough."

"I can't wait," said Ingleby.

Leger said nothing further. He could not leave his com-
rade there, and he sat down by the windlass with his fingers
trembling a little on the pipe he did not light. The faint
sighing in the fir tops had died away, and only the noise of
man's petty activity ran on, discordant and, it almost
seemed, presumptuous. A half-moon hung above the
shoulder of a towering peak wrapped in a mantle of ever-
lasting white, the river twinkled in the gloom below ; but it
counted for nothing with Leger that earth and sky were
steeped in a profound serenity. He was sensible only of the
jar of the pick below.

In the meanwhile Ingleby, stripped to the waist, toiled
feverishly by the light of a few blazing resin-knots in the
narrow pit. His hands were bleeding, and the dew of effort
dripped from him while he swung with the clinking pick
like an automaton. He was grimed with mire, his long boots
were sodden, and the drip from the shaft side splashed
upon his naked shoulders, while his face was grim and grey
with the weariness he did not feel. At last there was a
sharp ringing as the pick went down, and while his raw
hands tingled he flung the implement aside.

INGLEBY STRIKES IT RICH 149

"Bed rock or a boulder!" he said hoarsely. "Send the
bucket down."

It was a bald announcement, but that was not a time for
speech, and Leger fully realized the significance of it. The
crazy windlass rattled, and the rude receptacle of deer-hide
stretched on a willow-hoop came down. Ingleby filled it
with the shovel, and then pressed down a further load of
sand and soil and pebbles with quivering hands.

"Heave !" he said sharply.

The bucket went up, and it was with a little grim smile
Ingleby struggled into his rent shirt, though the operation
cost him at least a minute. There was, he knew, a neces-
sity for keeping his head now, and, holding himself in hand
by an effort, he crawled slowly up the notched fir-pole
lowered into the little shaft. Then he and Leger, saying
nothing, proceeded to the creek with the heavy bucket and
a big indurated basin. Ingleby went in knee-deep, with the
firelight flickering on him, and with a twirl of his hands
washed out half the lighter contents of the basin. Then
he glanced at Leger.

"Shall we try it now?" he said.

"No," said Leger, a trifle hoarsely. "Put in the rest."

Ingleby emptied into a little heap what was left in the
basin, after which he filled it again, and repeated the pro-
cess several times while Leger stood still upon the bank
watching him. Neither said anything, though there was
a strained expectancy in their faces that showed the im-
portance of the result. At last there was nothing left in
the bucket, and Leger's hands shook as he scooped up the
little heap upon the bank and flung it into the basin.

"Get it done!" he said.

Ingleby stepped back into the stream, and was busy some
little time tilting and twirling the basin, and now and then
stirring its contents with his hand. Then he very carefully
let the water run away, and waded with a curious slowness
to the bank. He stood there for a tense moment while he

150 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

and Leger looked at each other, until the latter, turning,
stirred the crackling fire.

"Pour it out!" he said hoarsely. "I can't stand much
more of this."

Ingleby shook out the contents of the basin on a little
strip of hide, and for a moment or two could scarcely dis-
cern anything, for his heart throbbed painfully and his
sight was a trifle dim. Then he made out that there were
little yellow grains scattered about the hide, and when he
stirred the fragments of stone and pebbles with his fingers
larger particles of the same hue became visible. He
straightened himself slowly with a little gasp, and the
blood surged to his face.

"I almost think — we've struck it rich !" he said.

Leger said nothing whatever, for there are times when it
is difficult to express one's feelings articulately, and he
stood quite still in the firelight blinking at Ingleby. Then
he sat down, and scraping the precious grains into a little
bag poised it in his hand.

"There will be no need for any more baking — at this
rate. We'll go home and tell Hetty," he said.

"She's asleep," said Ingleby, whose voice shook a little.

"Perhaps she is," said Leger, with a curious smile. "I
fancy I shall rest to-night."*

They climbed the hillside together, Ingleby carrying the
little bag ; but he scarcely saw the glow of the fire that still
burned outside the shanty or the clustering pines. His
heart no longer throbbed as it had done, and while a curious
lassitude came upon him, alluring visions floated before
him. Then as they stopped in front of the shanty a
shadowy figure slipped out of it, and, for the firelight fell
upon them, Hetty felt her fingers quiver as she glanced at
Ingleby's face.

"Oh!" she said with a little gasp, "you have found the
gold !"

Ingleby gravely held out the bag. "That is the first of

INGLEBY STRIKES IT RICH 151

it — and it's yours," he said. "If it hadn't been for yon
we should never have held the mine. One third of it
all belongs to you."

Hetty took the gold with a little smile.

"I am very glad you found it — and remembered me,"
she said.

Then she turned away somewhat abruptly, and went
back into the shanty.

"Hetty scarcely seems as delighted as one would have ex-
pected," said Ingleby.

Leger, whose face had grown a trifle grave, laughed in
a fashion which suggested that it cost him an effort. "One
so seldom gets a windfall of this kind that it's a trifle diffi-
cult to know how to express one's satisfaction. The only
thing that occurs to me is to smash all the cooking utensils,
but, considering the distance from the settlement, that
would scarcely be convenient."

Ingleby, who flung himself down beside the fire, made
no answer, but vacantly drank the coffee and ate the food
that Hetty brought him. He was, in fact, almost oblivious
of his surroundings, for again his fancy was busy with al-
luring visions, and now that the tension was over his per-
ceptions were dulled by the weariness of his worn-out body.
At last, however, he became sensible that Leger was no
longer there and that Hetty was sitting alone on the op-
posite side of the sinking fire.

"Where's Tom?" he asked.

"I think he's asleep," said Hetty. "It's no wonder.
Aren't you very tired, Walter?"

Ingleby laughed drowsily and stretched his aching limbs.
"I really believe I am, though I scarcely felt it until this
moment. What are you sitting up for, Hetty?"

"I don't quite know. Still, one doesn't come into a
fortune every day. I suppose it is a fortune, Walter?"

Ingleby's face grew a trifle grave. "It at least looks

152 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

like it, but nobody could tell just now. A placer mine often
works out unexpectedly."

"Still, if it doesn't, what are you going to do?"

"Why don't you say — we?"

Hetty smiled curiously, and shook her head. "You
will not want Tom and me now."

"If you fancy I would ever be willing to lose sight of
either of you you are doing me a wrong. Haven't I been
living on your bounty — on what you made by baking with
your own little hands ? Would we have found the gold if
it hadn't been for you?"

Hetty flushed a little, but she persisted.

"I'm not sure the new friends you will make would ap-
prove of us," she said.

"Then," said Ingleby decisively, "they will not be friends
of mine. You don't seem to understand that you have a
third share in the mine, and Tom holds another. The
result of that will be that you will be able to live as you
like and dress as prettily as anybody. Still, don't you
think that old print gown — I suppose it is print — you put
on to bake in is worth all a court-lady's finery?"

Hetty once more shook her head. "I should still be
Hetty Leger — who waited at a boarding-house, and sold
bread to the miners," she said. "If I pretended to be any
one else people would only find me out and laugh, as well
as look down on me. Nothing that I could put on or any
one could teach me would make me quite the same as —
Miss Coulthurst — you see."

Ingleby, who had not expected this, was not exactly
pleased. He was very grateful to Hetty, and thought,
which was how he expressed it, a good deal of her; but
since she had raised the point, there was certainly a differ-
ence between her and Grace Coulthurst. It did not occur
to him that the difference might, after all, be in Hetty's
favour, and that there were qualities she possessed which
are worth more than many accomplishments and a repose-

INGLEBY STRIKES IT RICH 153

ful manner. In the meanwhile Hetty appeared to expect
an answer, and he felt that she had placed him in a
difficulty.

"What you have suggested applies as much to me," he
said.

Hetty laughed. "I was wondering what you would say
— and I suppose it does. Still, nobody seems to mind the
little difference so much in a man when he has plenty
of money. You are going to marry Miss Coulthurst if you
get rich, Walter?"

"Yes," said Ingleby gravely, "if she will have me,
which I am afraid is far from certain; but I must make
myself more than a placer miner first. That is why, if
Tom is willing, I shall probably start a contractor's busi-
ness and build roads and bridges. They are always wanted
in this Province, and I fancy making them wouldn't be so
very difficult. Tom would stay in the office — he has the
brains, you see — and I like the outside life in the bush. It
is a useful profession that everybody looks up to here, and
we could, of course, bring out a young English engineer."

He had sunk back a little upon the pile of branches
where he lay, and Hetty noticed that his eyes were heavy ;
but he roused himself with an effort.

"We will go back to Vancouver when the mine works
out. You shall choose the house — one of the pretty ones
outside the town with the wooden pillars and painted
scrollwork. We will get a China boy to cook for you — and
you shall have a pair of ponies to drive in Stanley Park.
Tom will keep the books and get the orders while I do the
work. Roads and bridges, flumes and dams, are always
wanted — and I must be more than a placer miner."

Then his head sank forward, and Hetty, who sat still
for a minute, rose with a little wistful smile, and looked
down at him. He lay with eyes quite closed now, and one
arm stretched out, for the needs of the worn-out body had
at last proved stronger than his will. His jacket had fallen.

154 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

open to the waist, and Hetty noticed how thin he was
and the hollowness of his quiet face. Then she slipped
softly into the tent where Leger lay asleep, and coming
out with a coarse brown blanket, spread it over Ingleby,
though as she did it the flickering light showed a rich
damask in her cheek. Then laying fresh wood on the fire
she stole away and left him to sleep. The great branches
that met above him kept off the dew, and one could sleep
as well there as in the tent.

The sun had cleared the redwoods when he opened his
eyes again and saw Leger smiling down at him.

"It's a very long while since I got up so late, and I don't
quite know how I came to be lying here," he said. "I
suppose I fell asleep beside the fire, but in that case it's
a little difficult to understand how I could have got the
blanket and tucked myself in."

Then he stood up and stretched himself, while Leger
glanced at him curiously.

"I don't think it matters very much. You looked half-
dazed when I left you, and scarcely likely to remember
what you did," he said. "Breakfast is almost ready, and
we have a good deal on hand to-day."

Within the next half-hour they were at work again, and
by afternoon had satisfied themselves of the richness of
the claim. They also, in accordance with established cus-
tom, put up a little flag to show all whom it might concern
that they had bottomed on gold. As it happened, nobody
but a police trooper, who asked them a few questions, saw
it, for the pines were thick and most of the placer workings
situated farther up the valley. The trooper mentioned
the matter to Esmond, and the latter forthwith called
upon Major Coulthurst. His opportunity had come.

"I wonder if you know that your friend Ingleby has
struck gold?" he said.

"I didn't," said Coulthurst, who did not appear to notice
his sardonic tone. "I'm pleased to hear it."

INGLEBY STRIKES IT RICH 155

Esmond's smile might have meant anything. "It
would," he said, "have been wiser if Ingleby had stayed
on his claim. You remember that he left it for a con-
siderable time."

"I do," said Coulthurst, who glanced at him inquiringly,
with a trace of dryness. "In different circumstances it
might have cost him his title."

Esmond sat silent for a moment or two.

"So far as I understand the enactments, one only holds
a placer claim on the condition that the work goes on con-
tinuously," he said.

"In the case you are referring to I believe it did. In-
gleby left his partner in possession."

Esmond smiled. "It is, one understands, essential that
everybody holding a mineral claim of any kind should
have a free miner's certificate."

"Of course! Ingleby and Leger each took one out. I
remember it very well."

"All certificates," said Esmond, "expire on the thirty-
first of May."

"Ingleby renewed his," said Coulthurst, and stopped
abruptly.

"Ingleby, as you remember, invalidated his title."

Coulthurst rose sharply and took down his register.
He flicked over several pages and closed it with a little
hang. Then as he turned to Esmond his face grew a trifle
grim.

"Fm not quite sure how far my authority goes until
I look it up," he said. "I have rather a liking for Ingleby."

Esmond smiled in a deprecatory fashion. "It is not
exactly my business, but one would fancy that you couldn't
very well discriminate, sir. Anything of the kind would
have an undesirable effect upon the other men."

"That is my affair," and Coulthurst glanced at him
sharply. "It is a little difficult to understand why you
raised the question only when they had found the gold."

156 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"I fancy that it is very natural, sir. It is no part of
my duty to see the mining regulations are carried out,
and it was not until I heard they had struck the lead
that I remembered the little fact I noticed in looking over
your register. It seemed advisable to let you know. The
men seem inclined to find fault with everything just now,
and if it came out that Ingleby's claim had not been se-
questrated when it should have been they might get it into
their heads that you had winked at the irregularity because
you were on good terms with him. That would naturally
increase my difficulties with them."

Coulthurst stood looking at him with a hardening face.
"I am," he said, "very sorry that this has happened, but
it will be gone into. May I trouble you to send one of
your troopers over for Ingleby and Leger?"

XVI

AN INVALID RECORD

CUPPER had just been finished, and Ingleby was lying,
pipe in hand, beside the creek waiting until Leger
should bring another load of wash-dirt from the mine.
The sunlight was still pleasantly warm, the air filled
with the balsamic odours of the pines, and there was a
little smile of unalloyed content in Ingleby's face as he
drank them in. Though he had toiled since morning,
those few minutes would be the only rest he would enjoy
until long after darkness closed in, and once more he
indulged in visions of a roseate future as he made the most
of them.

They had washed up each bucket-load as they brought
it to the surface, and the result had made the richness of
the mine increasingly plain. Ingleby was getting accus-
tomed to the fact that he was now, in all probability, at
least, comparatively rich, and already his brain was oc-
cupied with half-formed projects. They did not include
a further course of prospecting, for he had discovered
that placer mines are addicted to playing out with dis-
concerting rapidity, and that in case of the deep lodes it
is not as a rule the man who records the claim, but the
capitalist or company-jobber, who takes the profit.

He would go back to civilization and embark on an
industrial career, for there was, he fancied not altogether
incorrectly, wealth awaiting the resolute and enterprising
man with sufficient money who was willing to play his part

157

158 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

in laying the foundations of the future prosperity of that
rich land, and he had a young man's faith in his abilities
which was in his case more or less warranted. Then when
he had won a footing he would boldly ask Major Coulthurst
for his daughter's hand. Social distinctions count for
little in Western Canada, and, though the waiting would
be hard, there was consolation in the thought that every
bold venture would bring him so much nearer her. In-
gleby was proud, and content to possess his soul in patience
until he had shown that he could hold his own with his fel-
lows and hew his own way to fortune.

It was, at least, a wholesome resolution, and there was
behind it a vague participation in the belief held by
primitive peoples and proclaimed in courts in the days of
chivalry, that man before he mated should be required to
make his manhood plain by deeds accomplished and pain
endured. It was not fitting, he felt, that the woman should
give everything or stoop too far. He must have something
to offer, as well as the ability to lift himself to her level ;
and through all there ran the desire of the democratic
Englishman for an opportunity to prove himself at least
the equal of those accounted his betters.

Before Leger reached him with the bucket there was
a rustling in the tall fern behind him, and Tomlinson
came out upon the bank of the creek. He glanced at the
little flag above the mine and the pile of debris at the
water's edge, and then took up the pan Ingleby had laid
down and dipped it in the stream. A whirl of it in his
practised hand was enough for him.

"Yes," he said quietly, "I guess you've struck it rich!"

Ingleby laughed and handed him a little bag.

"I almost think we have. Feel that !" he said.

Tomlinson poised the bag in one hand, and then sat
down with a little gesture of assent, for he was not by
any means a demonstrative man.

"Well," he said, "it will make it easier for Hetty, and

AN INVALID RECORD 159

I'm glad of it. Slaving away at that bakery isn't the kind
of thing for her. If s going to the opera at Vancouver with
the best of them she ought to be doing. I guess that
would suit most young women quite as well as baking
bread; but it's a little rough on me that Hetty Leger
would sooner stay right where she is."

"What do you mean ?" asked Ingleby.

"Tom knows," said Tomlinson, ruefully. "I haven't put
it quite straight to Hetty. Just now, anyway, it wouldn't
be any good. She's quite happy holding on to that blame
bakery, though what she wants to do it for is more than
I can figure. It can't be the money, because I've a claim
back yonder that's turning out a pile of it every day, and
she could have all she'd any use for."

Ingleby found himself in a position of some perplexity.
He could not well admit that there was any reason why an
honest man of excellent character, such as Tomlinson
appeared to be, should not marry Hetty, and yet the mere
probability of this was distasteful to him. It was, in fact,
unpleasant to contemplate the possibility of Hetty's marry-
ing anybody. He remembered that she had by no means
displayed the satisfaction one would have expected when
they found the gold, and from this it appeared that Tom-
linson's suggestion that she was quite content to continue
the bakery was warranted. It was, however, difficult to
discover any reason for this, and he was still considering
the question when Leger came up. Tomlinson turned to
him.

"You kept the thing kind of quiet. Told nobody yet?"
he said.

" Only one of the policemen. We were too busy to spend
a good deal of the day coming over to let the boys know,
though Ingleby was thinking of going across to-night.
You have a good claim already, and you can't hold more
than one, you know."

Tomlinson nodded. "That's quite right," he said. "It's

\

160 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

kind of unfortunate Sewell isn't here. You don't know
where he is?"

"No," said Ingleby. "He has been away for two days
looking for a deer. I suppose anybody pegging off a claim
next to ours would strike gold?"

"It's quite likely. He'd get the colour, sure, but when
the creek that washed the metal out was running it dropped
the heavy stuff only here and there. Anyway, the chances
would be good enough, I figure. What policeman was it
you told?"

"Probyn."

Tomlinson's face hardened suddenly. "Oh, yes!" he
said. "He's quite often hanging around here."

It occurred to Ingleby now that the trooper in question
had certainly found occasion to visit their mine or the
bakery somewhat frequently, but just then the lad in
question appeared and came up to them. He disregarded
Tomlinson, who showed no sign of recognizing him, and
looked at Ingleby.

"Major Coulthurst would be glad if you and Leger could
find it convenient to see him now," he said.

"What does he want?" asked Leger sharply.

"I don't know," said the trooper. "I'm telling you
what he said."

There was a curious silence for a moment or two, and
Ingleby felt a little thrill of apprehension run through
him. Then Tomlinson rose with sudden abruptness.

"I guess you've got to go. I'm coming along," he said.

"The Recorder did not mention you. If he'd been
anxious for your company he probably would have done
so," said the trooper drily.

Tomlinson looked at him with a little glint in his eyes,
and then laid his hand on Ingleby's shoulder.

"I've played this game quite a long while, and I guess
I know the pointers 'most as well as anybody," he said.

Ingleby said nothing, but his face became suddenly in-

AN INVALID RECORD 161

tent, and, though the pace they made was fast, he grew
feverishly impatient as they swung along the trail to the
Gold Commissioner's office. Coulthurst was awaiting them
when they reached it>and glanced at Tomlinson inquiringly.

"You have some business with me?" he said.

Tomlinson sat down uninvited, with a smile. "Well,"
he said, "the fact is, I don't quite know yet. When you've
trouble with the Crown folks in the cities you can take a
lawyer along. At this game I'm 'most as good as one."

Coulthurst made his indifference apparent by a gesture.
"I don't suppose it matters. Will you sit down, Mr.
Leger? There's a seat yonder, Ingleby."

Ingleby sat down, and, with a sinking heart, watched him
open a book. There was a difference in Coulthurst's man-
ner. He was precise and formal and did not appear quite
comfortable. One could almost have fancied that what
he was about to do was distasteful to him.

"You left your claim on or about the twentieth of June,
Ingleby," he said. "You did not return until "

"Hold on !" said Tomlinson. "You've got to prove that.
I guess there's no reason why you should admit anything,
Walter."

Just then there were footsteps outside, and Ingleby
looked up sharply as Esmond came in. He appeared a
trifle disconcerted when he saw what was going on, and
turned towards the door again.

"I didn't know you were busy, sir," he said.

"Sit down," and the major's tone was very dry. "I
should prefer you to hear this affair with me. You re-
member on what day Mr. Ingleby left his claim?"

Tomlinson nodded. "That's the straight thing, Major,"
he said. "Keep him right there. I guess the insect's at
the botttom of everything."

, "We can dispense with your advice," said Coulthurst,
chillingly, though there was a suggestion of a twinkle in
his eyes.

162 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

In the meanwhile Ingleby looked at Esmond, and his
face was a trifle pale, though a faint tinge of darker hue
showed in the young officer's cheek. He was apparently
not altogether free from embarrassment. It was Ingleby
who spoke.

"I have no doubt Captain Esmond remembers exactly
when I left the claim, sir, and there is nothing to be gained
by disputing over a day or two," he said. "I was away
a good deal longer than the seventy-two hours the law
permits."

"Which invalidates your title!" said the major. "You
failed to notify me or claim the privilege which under
certain conditions I might have accorded you."

Ingleby, who had been anxious hitherto, but by no means
dismayed, gasped.

"If I understand the regulations, it would be quite suffi-
cient to leave another miner to carry on the work on my
account. Besides, under the mineral-claim enactments
which I think apply, the title would, in any case, revert to
my partner."

Esmond, who appeared to have recovered his tranquillity,
smiled a little, and there was a curious silence in the room
as Coulthurst took down a book. Ingleby could feel his
heart throbbing as he listened to the sharp rustle of the
leaves while the major looked for the clause he wanted.

"You hold a free miner's certificate, Leger?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," said Leger, and then started visibly, while
Ingleby, who saw his face, closed one hand a trifle as he
leaned forward in his chair.

"You can produce it?" said the major.

Leger dejectedly passed the paper across to him, but
Ingleby, who found the suspense becoming unendurable,
turned to him.

"Tom," he said hoarsely, "you didn't neglect to renew
it?"

AN INVALID RECORD 163

Leger did not seem to remember that anybody else was
there. He smiled wryly and made a little gesture.

"I'm afraid I did," he said. "I hadn't the money
when the time came round. I didn't want you to know
that — and I couldn't ask Hetty. "We scarcely expected to
find anything, you see. Afterwards, I suppose it slipped
my memory."

Ingleby said nothing, though his face was very grim,
and the little thud of Coulthurst's hand upon the book
broke sharply through the silence.

"Should a free miner neglect to renew his certificate
upon expiry all mineral-claims held by him under it revert
to the Crown," he said.

Then he stood up, straight and burly, though his face
was a trifle flushed.

"I'm sorry, Ingleby, but I'm afraid you have thrown
away your claim."

Ingleby sat very still for part of a minute with one hand
closed tightly. Then he also rose.

"I can't blame you, sir," he said hoarsely. "I don't
think there is anything to be gained by protesting."

"Well," said Tomlinson, "you're 'way more patient than
I would be. Why did they let you go on working until you
had found the gold?"

Ingleby turned and looked at the police officer with a
very unpleasant glint in his eyes. "That," he said, "is
a little kindness for which, I fancy, I am indebted to Cap-
tain Esmond."

He would have gone out, but Tomlinson laid a hand upon
his arm and turned to the Recorder.

"Now," he said, "I'm going to do some talking. That
claim's Ingleby's, Major, until you've declared it open, and
wiped out his record."

"Well," said Coulthurst drily, "I am sorry to find my-
self compelled to do it. The claim lately held by Walter
Ingleby and Thomas Leger, having reverted to the Crown,

164 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

is open for relocation. A notice will be issued to that
effect. I may, however, point out — to you — that no free
miner can hold more than one claim in the same vicinity.''

"That's all right," said Tomlinson. "The one I've got
is quite enough for me. You have a certificate, Ingleby.
Take out a new one, Leger."

Leger drew the little bag from his pocket, but Tom-
linson waved it aside, and threw another down before
Coulthurst, glancing at Esmond as he did so.

"That gold came out of the reverted mine, and they
might claim it wasn't yours. We'll make sure," he said.
"There's a man worth keeping your eye on who has a hand
in this deal. More than the necessary amount there, sir?
Let him have his certificate. I'll look in for the rest any
time that suits you."

Coulthurst's eyes twinkled a little as comprehension
dawned on him, and he passed Leger the paper.

"I fancy any advice that prospector Tomlinson desires
to give you would be worth considering," he said.

Tomlinson wasted no further time, but drove Ingleby
and Leger before him out of the room.

"It's rustle now!" he said. "There's nothing to stop
either of you pegging a new claim down on the lead along-
side the old one. It's even chances you strike it quite as
rich there. Get your stakes in !"

"Where are you going?" asked Leger.

Tomlinson laughed. "To put the boys on the lead.
Still, it's quite likely that a friend of mine will relocate
your old claim a little ahead of them. He'll be there 'most
as soon as the major puts up his notice that it's open. He
may think it worth while to let me in somehow for telling
him."

He set off at a run, and as he disappeared Ingleby and
Leger, leaving the winding trail, went straight through the
undergrowth towards the canon. Vigorous movement with
a definite purpose was a relief to them, and they were

AN INVALID RECORD 165

gasping and dripping with perspiration when at last they
stopped beside the sequestrated claim. Nobody else had
reached it, and the bush was very still, but it was in feverish
haste they hewed and drove in certain square-faced stakes.
They were still on the lead, and once more a little hope
sprang up in them.

In the meanwhile Coulthurst sat at his table looking hard
at Esmond.

"I hope," he said grimly, "that you are now satisfied."
Esmond met his gaze without embarrassment. "I'm
not sure I quite catch your meaning, sir."

"In that case," said Coulthurst, "it is a trifle difficult
to understand how you came to hold a commission in a
service in which one understands intelligence is necessary.
I have carried out the law, but I don't mind admitting that
I do not appreciate being made use of in this fashion. It
is very evident you do not like Ingleby."

Esmond, who made no disclaimer, appeared to reflect for
a moment or two.

"Well," he said, "you have, perhaps, some ground for
feeling aggrieved, sir ; but I can't help thinking that I have
done nothing that was unnecessary."

"I am not blaming you for — doing your duty."
"I scarcely think you would be warranted in consider-
ing me very much at fault for going a little beyond it.
I admit that it would please me to see Ingleby driven out
of the valley. The fellow's presumption is almost insuffer-
able."

Coulthurst glanced at him sharply, and his face grew a
trifle red. "Ingleby is very young in comparison with my-
self, but you were once good enough to allude to him as a
friend of mine, and you certainly met him at my house as
my guest. If there was any particular meaning in your
speech, it would be better to come straight to the point.
I don't like hints."

"I can only offer you my excuses for momentary bad

166 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

memory, sir. Absurd as it may seem to you, I'm far from
sure that Ingleby is likely to be content with the status
mentioned. A very little reflection should make the warn-
ing clear. In the meanwhile I have a couple of troopers
waiting for me."

He went out, and Coulthurst sat still at his table gazing
vacantly in front of him with his lips unusually firmly set.
Then he rose with a little shake of his shoulders and a
gesture of relief.

"The thing is quite out of the question. Grace has too
much sense," he said.

XVII

TROOPER PROBYN'S MISADVENTURE

^TOBODY blamed Coulthurst for dispossessing Ingleby
of his claim. In fact, the bluff and usually good-
humoured major was more or less a favourite with the
miners, who admitted that while it was rough on Ingleby
no other course was open to him. For all that, the affair
made an unfortunate impression when news leaked out
of the part Esmond had played in it, for the tetter's arro-
gance had gone a long way to gain him the hearty dislike
of every man in the valley.

The Canadian is, as a rule, a sturdy imperialist with
democratic tendencies, a type of citizen which would else-
where probably be thought an anachronism. There were,
however, as Sewell had pointed out, a good many men
in the North just then who had no country, and a vague
unrest and discontent, that once or twice came near pro-
ducing unpleasant results, spread sporadically across the
wilderness that season. Nobody was pleased with the min-
ing regulations, and there were quiet Canadian bushmen
who thought the drafting of detachments of the Northwest
Police into that country not only unnecessary, but a re-
flection upon them. There were also other men, who had
carried the memory of their wrongs with them from lands
ruled by the mailed fist, to whom this symbol of imperial
authority was as a red rag to a bull, and here and there a
heavy responsibility was laid on the agents of the Crown.

Major Coulthurst. however, felt very little. He was not
167

168 DELILAH OF. THE SNOWS

a keen-sighted man, and there were no signs of discontent
in the Green River country so far, at least, as he could
discern. It was true that Sewell, who played chess with
him somewhat frequently, now and then made disturbing
recommendations which the major occasionally went so far
as to consider; but the country was apparently quiet, and
might have remained so, in spite of Esmond's insolent
tactlessness, had it not been for a little mistake made by
Trooper Probyn.

He was a reckless stripling with a certain grace of man-
ner which he could scarcely have acquired in the ranks of
the Northwest Police, though men whose family name is
well known in the older country occasionally join that
service for reasons which they do not as a rule explain.
He was comely, and he not infrequently loitered at the
bakery, even when he was supposed to be elsewhere at his
duty. It happened that he stood there one Saturday after-
noon, watching Hetty Leger with undisguised appreciation,
when there was nobody else about. He had perhaps chosen
that particular time because Leger, who had shown that he
did not approve of him, was at the mine; but there were
smears of flour upon his uniform which suggested what his
occupation had been.

Hetty, who rather liked the lad, looked distinctly pretty
just then, as, with sleeves rolled to the elbow, she moulded
a loaf for the oven. The bush was very still, and it was
pleasantly cool in the shadow of the pines, which rolled in
sombre ranks down the face of the hill. It was, perhaps,
unfortunate that Hetty smiled as she held out the bread.

"You can put this loaf in and seal up the oven if you're
very good," she said. *"""

Probyn seized the loaf somewhat clumsily, so that in
steadying it Hetty's fingers left an impression on the plastic
dough.

"Now," said Probyn gravely, "that ought to make it
worth another ten dollars to anybody."

' .TROOPER PROBYN'S MISADVENTURE 169

"Would you think it worth all that?"

"A hundred," said Probyn, "would not be too much.
I'd buy the thing now only, unfortunately, I haven't a coin
of any kind by me. There are, you see, a good many dis-
advantages attached to being a police trooper."

"Are there?" said Hetty. "Then why did you become
one, and what would you have liked to be?"

"That," answered the lad, with a trace of dryness, "is
neither here nor there." Then his eyes twinkled again.
"A baker! Couldn't you give me that loaf on credit — to
keep forever?"

"I certainly couldn't. Besides, you would eat it the first
time you were hungry. Hold it still while I make it smooth
again !"

She did it with dainty little pats, and the lad watched
her, openly appreciative, with his head on one side, for her
pose and the movements of arm and shoulder effectively
displayed a prettily moulded figure.

"There's a little bit you have left out. Hadn't you
better go round it again ?" he said.

It was, perhaps, not altogether wise of Hetty to laugh
provokingly as she glanced at him ; but she was young, and
masculine approbation was no more distasteful to her than
it is to most young women. She also believed — as she had,
indeed, once pointed out to Tom Leger — that, though
Trooper Probyn had very little sense, there was not a grain
of harm in him.

"Why? It's quite smooth enough," she said.

"You do it so prettily. Of course, that's only what one
would expect from a girl with a hand like that. The wrist
runs into it so nicely, too. When some people try to work
their wrists get red, you know."

"Put the bread into the oven — now," said Hetty se-
verely.

The lad, who noticed a certain warning tone he had heard
before, did as he was bidden, and luted up the door of the

170 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

big clay-built oven. When he returned there was no longer
any of Hetty's arm visible beneath her sleeve.

"It's getting late, and I have the boys' supper to look
after," she said significantly.

Probyn knew by the lengthening of the shadows that
this was true, and he had still a long round to make; but
he was a trifle more inconsequent than usual that after-
noon, and in place of taking his departure leaned against
a cedar.

"Well," he said, "I mean to stay a little. It's very
pleasant here."

The statement was perfectly warranted, for the sound
of the river came up soothingly across the pines, and
through openings between them one could see the tre-
mendous ramparts of never-melting snow that cut cold
and white against the blue. Hetty, too, standing with
fluffy hair a trifle disordered, and with the sunlight stream-
ing between the great branches upon her, was very alluring ;
but still, it was unfortunate that Trooper Probyn did not
go. He was not aware that Tomlinson, who had had diffi-
culties with the flume he was building, was just then com-
ing up the hillside in a somewhat uncertain temper.

"You have been here quite an hour," said Hetty.

"A year," said Probyn, "wouldn't be half enough for me.
Now, I've a piece- of news I hadn't the heart to tell you —
and you'll try to be brave. Esmond is sending two or
three of us South very shortly, and I'm very much afraid I
will be one of them."

"Is that all?" and Hetty laughed.

The lad looked at her reproachfully. "You seem to
bear up astonishingly well. It will be different with me.
You may even have married one of those miner fellows by
the time I come back again."

There was no apparent reason why the suggestion should
drive the smile out of Hetty's eyes; but it certainly did;
though Probyn did not notice her sudden change of mood.

TROOPER PROBYN'S MISADVENTURE 171

"Yes," he said, "I'm afraid I'll have to go, and that's
■why I want you to give me something to rememher yon by
when I'm far away. It.needn't be very much. That pretty-
little ribbon at your neck would do."

The request was not out of keeping with the trooper's
usual conversation, which consisted largely of badinage, and
Hetty could not be expected to realize that he now and then
meunt what he said. It, however, happened that Ingleby,
who said it suited her complexion, had once laughingly
bought her that ribbon in a Vancouver dry-goods store.

"You certainly can't have it," she said, a trifle sharply.

Probyn, who perversely fancied her decisiveness was as-
sumed and intended to be provocative, lost his head.

"Then you don't mean to 'give me a trifle of that kind
after chopping wood for you two days every week and
kneading an ovenful of bread?" he said.

"No," said Hetty, who. was by no means anxious to de-
tain him now. "It wasn't anything like that often, and
I told you I was busy. Why don't you go?"

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to take it," said Probyn,
with a reckless laugh.

In another moment his hand was on Hetty's shoulder,
and it was unfortunate he did not see the indignation in
her face as she strove to thrust him away. There was no
doubt about the genuineness of it now, for her cheeks were
flushed with anger; but the trooper's persistence was not
lessened by the fact that a pin entered one of his fingers
as he clutched at the little bow. The momentary pain,
indeed, drove what little sense he had out of his head, and
he became the more determined upon obtaining possession
of the coveted ribbon.

Just then a big, long-limbed man with a grim, bronzed
face came out of the shadow of the pines and stopped for a
moment with a smothered expletive. It was not altogether
unnatural that he should misunderstand the situation, and
lie sprang forward suddenly when he recovered from hig

TO DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

astonishment. Probyn had by this time succeeded in tear-
ing away the bow, and there was a rustle of draperies as
Hetty, who shook off his relaxing grasp, inconsequently
fled; but in another moment a hard hand fell upon his
shoulder and swung him round. In fact, so rude was the
wrench that he reeled backwards for a pace or two, and on
recovering his balance found himself face to face with a
big and very angry man who regarded him out of half-
closed eyes in a distinctly unpleasant fashion.

"It's you, Tomlinson! What the devil did you mean
by that?" he said.

"Well," said the miner drily, "I guess it ought to be
quite plain to you."

, Probyn, who looked around, saw that Hetty had vanished
into the shanty.

"Now, look here, there really isn't the slightest reason
why you should make an ass of yourself," he said. "I am,
of course, not telling you this because I am afraid of any-
thing you can do."

Tomlinson's face grew a little darker in hue as he glanced
at the strip of crumpled ribbon still in the lad's hand.

"I want that thing. Pass it across," he said.

Probyn smiled, for his recklessness was, perhaps, partly
accounted for by the fact that there was what is usually
termed good blood in him.

"I'll have considerable pleasure in seeing you hanged
first," he said.

"Well," said Tomlinson, "we'll fix all that. Now, light
out of this. You don't want the circus right in front of
the shanty."

The lad made a little gesture of comprehension as he
swung round, and Tomlinson gravely walked after him
until they could no longer be seen from the shanty. Then
Probyn turned to him again.

"We're far enough, I think," he said.

He stood, strung up, but apparently impassive, with his

TROOPER PROBYN'S MISADVENTURE 173

left arm across him and his right hand clenched at his side,
and only a suggestion of watchfulness in his steady eyes.
Tomlinson smiled grimly.

"If I were to hit you hard I'd kill you, sure. I'm raised
to-day," he said. "I guess a souse in the creek will have
to do instead."

Prohyn saw that the issue must be faced, and he was by
no means deficient in courage, or he would not have ridden
long with the Northwest Police. Stepping forward, with
a thrust from his right foot, he feinted with his left hand
at the miner's face, and then, swinging downwards with
lowered head, got in a right-hand body blow that would
probably have staggered another man. Tomlinson, how-
ever, took it with no more than a gasp, and flinging out
his right hand closed with him, which was singularly un-
fortunate for Trooper Probyn. He had been accounted
tolerably proficient with the gloves in another land, but
it is not for pastime that men fight in the wilderness, and
there the disablement of one's opponent by any means avail-
able is the object of the game.

Probyn had the pride which breeds courage and endur-
ance, as well as vigour ; but he had not swung the axe and
shovel for twenty years, as Tomlinson had done, in the
strenuous, unceasing grapple with unsubdued Nature which
hardens every muscle and sinew in the men of the North-
west. They have the pride of manhood in place of the
pride of birth, and a grim optimism which chiefly finds
expression in attempting that which is apparently beyond
accomplishment, and in holding on, in spite of frost and
snow and icy gale, until achievement comes. Thus it came
about that in a very few seconds Trooper Probyn recog-
nized that he was no match for the miner, though he had
no intention of admitting it or of being put into the creek
if he could by any means avoid it.

For several strenuous minutes they reeled, locked to-
gether, about the trail, and fell against the trees, while

m DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

neither of them concerned himself greatly about the. strict
rules of the game. They smote when it was possible and
clinched when they could ; but all the time they were draw-
ing steadily nearer the creek.

In the meanwhile Leger and Ingleby, as well as one or
two miners who purposed purchasing bread from Hetty,
came out from among the pines, and a corporal of police
rode up on the opposite side of the creek. The miners, who
did not notice him, naturally stopped.
, "It's that young ass Probyn," said Ingleby. "No doubt
he deserves all he is apparently getting."

"He is in uniform, anyway," said Leger. "We'll have
to stop them. Let the lad go, Tomlinson !"

Tomlinson did not hear him, for just then he swung the
trooper off his feet, and staggering forward a pace or two
fell with him into the creek. They splashed into the water,
and apparently rolled over and over in the midst of it,
while confused shouts rose from the miners.

"Pull him off. No, stand clear. Let them have a
show !"

Then the corporal of police, trotting forward, pulled his
horse up at the edge of the creek.

"Let up on that man, prospector," he said sharply.

Tomlinson seemed to hear him, for he relaxed his. hold
and slowly stood up, while Trooper Probyn rose in the
middle of the creek with the water draining from him
and blood on his cheek. The miners gathered round, but
the corporal sat stiffly in his saddle with expressionless
» face.

"Stand off, you," he said, with a glance at them, and
then turned to Probyn. "Now, what in the name of
thunder is the meaning of this circus?"

"It's a little difference of opinion," said the trooper.
"Prospector Tomlinson felt I'd said something insulting
to him."

The corporal appeared to reflect. "Considering where

TROOPER PROBYN'S MISADVENTURE 175

you were sent to, I can't quite figure what you were doing
here, anyway; but that's not the point," he said. "I'll
trouble you to come along to the outpost, Tomlinson."

One of the miners stepped forward. "He's staying
where he is," he said. "I guess the trooper made the
trouble and only got what he wanted. Hadn't both of
you better light out of this?"

There was a little grim murmur of approbation, but the
corporal; who dropped his bridle, looked at the men with
steady eyes.

"I'm not asking your opinions, boys," he said.

Then Probyn turned to him. "As a matter of fact,
they're right in one respect," he said. "The little row had
nothing to do with any question of duty. It was a private
affair of mine. If it appears necessary, you can report it
to Captain Esmond."

Once more the corporal, who was a shrewd man, ap-
peared to reflect. "Well," he said, "I saw your grey
tethered when I came along the trail. You'd better get him.
If you're wanted we'll come along for you, Tomlinson."

Tomlinson turned, and looked at Probyn. "I guess,"
he said, slowly and distinctly, "if ever you start the same
circus again I'll kill you."

The corporal, who did not appear to hear him, though,
everybody else did, wheeled his horse, and Probyn walked
by his stirrup when he rode away. Then Ingleby turned
to Tomlinson.

"There's a good deal I want to know," he said.

"Well," said the big miner drily, "there's very little you
need worry about. You see, that young trooper isn't fond
of me, and there was a kind of unpleasantness when we ran
up against each other."

"You were coming down the trail from the bakery when
I saw you," said Leger.

"Yes," said Tomlinson, "we were."

176 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Then," said Leger, "since he ran up against yon,
Probyn must have been going there."

Tomlinson appeared to be considering the point. "Well,"
he said, "it looks quite like that."

There was evidently no more to be got out of him, and
Leger and Ingleby went up the trail together towards the
bakery. Tomlinson, however, stayed behind, and slipped
a little crumpled bow of ribbon into his pocket.

XVIII

INGLEBY GOES AWAY

T T was a week after the sequestration of the claim, and
Ingleby leaned against a cedar with the firelight on his
face, which was unusually resolute, and a bundle of cloth-
ing and blankets at his feet. Hetty sat on one of the hearth-
logs in the shadow watching him quietly, and Leger stood
in the doorway of the shanty with something very like
anger in his eyes. He had for the last ten minutes enlarged
upon every reason he could think of why Ingleby should
remain with them, and the latter was still apparently as
firmly decided as ever on going away.

"There's not a grain of sense in your point of view,"
said Leger. "It's sentiment run to seed, and sentiment of
the most maudlin kind, at that. Of course, I know all
this is useless — nothing would move you — but it's some
small relief to let you know what I think of you. I suppose
you will admit that what you're going to do isn't quite in
keeping with the theories you once professed to believe in."

Hetty, who had a spice of temper, laughed. "Walter
never believed in them — he only thought he did. He's
like the rest of you. You keep your ideas to talk about
and worry people with."

Ingleby made a little deprecatory gesture. "I've no
doubt I deserve it, Hetty, but you ought to see that I can't
stay here. I should, in fact, have gone away before,
but I felt almost sure we would find the gold sooner or
later."

177

178 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Who is responsible for throwing the claim away?"
broke in Leger.

"Both of us, I fancy. Anyway, that's not quite the
question."

Leger made a last effort. "Now," he said, "you know
very well that your chance of finding gold on the new claim
is good, and we can very easily afford to grub-stake you
until you strike it. In this country it's quite a common ar-
rangement. Apart from that — since you seem to be so ab-
normally sensitive — there's enough for you and me to do
chopping wood for the oven in the evenings to square the
account altogether. I have, of course, pointed that out
already; but if you will make an effort, I think you will
remember that there was a time when you insisted on
lending me what was, in the circumstances, a considerable
sum of money."

"I can remember most clearly that only the fear of
seeing you arrested for manslaughter induced a certain
young lady to agree to it."

Hetty looked up sharply. "I'm not going to answer that
— I'm too vexed," she said. "It isn't the least use trying
to persuade him, Tom."

"No," said Leger, with a little gesture of resignation,
"I'm afraid it isn't. You are going to work for Tom-
linson, Walter?"

"Yes," said Ingleby. "That is, now and then — a day
or two to keep me going while I find out what is in the
claim. He wants more water, and is putting up a flume.
I had a five-dollar bill from him yesterday."

He stopped a moment, and the firelight showed there
was a trace of deeper colour than usual in his face as he
held out a little strip of paper to Hetty.

"Will you put that to my credit, and let me have two
loaves now?" he said.

Leger said something viciously that was not very distinct,

INGLEBY GOES AWAY 179

while Hetty sat still a moment glancing at the paper with-
out touching it, and then gravely held out her hand.

"You will get them in the store," she said.

Ingleby disappeared into the shadows, and the two who
were left said nothing whatever, but Hetty moved a trifle
so that Leger could not see her face. Then Ingleby came
back with the bread, and quietly slung his traps about him
before he held out his hand.

"I don't want to go, Hetty, but it can't be helped," he
said. "Of course, I'll come back often in the evenings."

Hetty did not move out of the shadow, and though
Ingleby did not seem to notice it there was a curious hard-
ness in her voice.

"Well," she said quietly, "I suppose you know best."

Ingleby turned away, and shook himself in a fashion that
suggested reljef as he swung down the trail. He had left
a good deal behind him, and it was a hard thing he had
done, much harder, in fact, than he had ever anticipated;
but he could not live on the bounty of a girl. For all that,
he shrank from the loneliness of the life before him, and
his fancy would dwell upon the evenings he had spent with
Hetty and Leger beside the crackling fire. Hetty was by
no means clever — at least, in some respects ; but he did not
expect her to be so, and where she was there was also
cheerfulness and tranquillity. Now the bush in front of
him seemed very black and lonely.

He had scarcely disappeared when Hetty, rising slowly,
crumpled a strip of paper in her hand and flung it into
the fire. As it happened, it fell upon the side of one of
the logs a little distance from the hottest blaze, and Leger
made a little instinctive movement, and then sat still
again.

"I suppose you realize what that is?" he said.

"Yes," said Hetty, whose face showed flushed in the
flickering light, "it is a five-dollar bill." ,

Leger looked at her sharply, and then laughed. "Well,"

180 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

he said, "I suppose you can afford it — and, after all, I'm
not sure it isn't the best thing you could do with it."

Hetty said nothing but went into the shanty, and it
was next morning before Leger, who looked very thought-
ful as he sat beside the fire, saw any more of her. He had
already realized that the possession of a pretty sister is a
responsibility.

For a week or two afterwards Ingleby alternately as-
sisted Tomlinson in the building of a flume and worked
on his claim, but it was, perhaps, fortunate that he had
now shaken off the fierce impatience which had driven him
to overtax his strength when hope was strong in him.
Indeed, of late a curious lassitude had crept upon him,
though he still toiled on ; and it was only the fact that pro-
visions were a consideration which induced him to ac-
company Sewell and Tomlinson on an expedition to look
for a black-tail deer.

Tomlinson brought a tent with him, and Ingleby and
Sewell were sitting outside it one evening when Trooper
Probyn and the corporal came up leading a laden horse.
Horses were very little use for riding in that country, but
there were trails they could with some difficulty be led
along, and the few strips of natural prairie afforded them a
precarious sustenance. There was also no other means of
transport except the miner's back. The corporal bade
Probyn pull the beast up beside the tent and loosed the
pack-lariat.

" You can get up when we've hove the traps off, and see
if the Indian's there," he said. "If he is, bring him along.
I guess we'll make nothing by pushing on to-night."

Trooper Probyn, swinging himself into the saddle,
scrambled up the hillside, which was comparatively clear
of undergrowth just there, while the corporal sat down
beside the fire.

"We've had supper. You don't mind our camping here?"
he asked.

INGLEBY GOES AWAY 181

Sewell, who lay, pipe in hand, upon a bundle of with-
ered fern, raised his head.

"There's room in the tent. It's a fair-sized one," he
said. "You're going on into the ranges?"

The corporal looked at him meditatively. "Eight
through to the Westerhouse Gully, if we can get there.
It appears a blame rough country; but Captain Esmond
has a notion that a trail could be made this way, and from
Westerhouse one could make the Yukon. It's part of his
business to see what can be done to open up communica-
tion."

Sewell turned and glanced towards the snow which
stretched in a great white rampart across the valley.
Beneath it a tremendous wall of rock dropped to the pines
below, which crawled round the crests and up the gullies
of a desolation of jumbled crags. Dark forest streaked
by filmy mist filled the devious hollows at their feet.

"You are right about the country. I should imagine it
to be a particularly rough one," he said.

"Well," said the corporal, "it seems quite certain the
Indians used to go through after the deer and salmon;
and it's believed that one or two white men have made
Westerhouse that way, too."

He stopped a moment, and glanced at Sewell. "You
were away somewhere quite a while, weren't you?"

Sewell laughed, and Ingleby, who watched them both,
wondered whether the corporal knew that he was one of
the few white men who had traversed the denies of the
divide.

"I was," he said. "Still, you see, it really isn't any
other person's business where I go to."

The corporal nodded with dry good-humour. "I guess
it wasn't Westerhouse, anyway," he said. "I'm not sure
we'll get there, though an Indian came along to the outpost
who figured he could take us."

Ingleby glanced at Sewell with a little smile. The cor-

182 DELILAH OE THE SNOWS

poral's belief in the capabilities of the police was admirable,
and more or less warranted, for the wardens of the North-
west are hard-riding men; but he was, after all, from the
prairie, and horses are very little used in the Green Kiver
country. Ingleby, however, fancied he was not quite certain
that communication had not been already effected with the
"Westerhouse Gully. Sewell, who apparently understood
Ingleby's glance, said nothing.

"There are only two of you here?" asked the corporal.

"No," said Ingleby. "Tomlinson is with us. He went
out this afternoon to look for a deer, and should be back any
minute now."

The corporal looked thoughtful. "I'm not quite sure
we'd have camped here if I'd known that," he said. " Still,
if you can keep your man in hand, I guess I can answer for
the trooper."

Ingleby fancied they could promise this, and for a while
nothing more was said. Darkness crept up the valley,
though there was still a saffron light on the towering snow,
and the peaks that lay in shadow cut with a cold, blue
whiteness against a wondrous green transparency. Then
the dew began to settle, calling up the drowsy odours of
the pines, and an impressive stillness pervaded the moun-
tain solitude. It grew colder rapidly, and Ingleby, who rose
and flung fresh branches on the fire, stood looking towards
the west, a spare black figure, with outline clean-cut as a
cameo against the flickering light, when the sharp ringing
of a rifle came suddenly down the valley. It rang from
rock to rock, as the hillsides flung it back, and died away
among the dimness of the pines.

"Tomlinson!" said Sewell. "I fancy he has got that
deer. There's scarcely wood enough to keep the fire in
until morning, Walter. If you don't want to light another
for breakfast, hadn't you better cut some more?"

Ingleby, who took up an axe, moved back into the bush,
and the silence was broken by a rhythmic thudding that

INGLEBY GOES AWAY 183

vibrated among the shadowy trunks, which was unfortunate,
because it tended to confuse the corporal's hearing. He
was an opinionated man, and a good deal depended upon
his being able to correctly locate a sound just then. He
would, however, probably have done so, had his attention
not been fixed upon the tobacco he was shredding. A
minute or two had passed when the crash of a rifle came
down the valley again, and he laughed.

"I guess your man didn't get that deer right off," he
said.

Sewell smiled, and waited until Ingleby came back with
an armful of wood.

" Our friend suggests that Tomlinson has been throwing
cartridges away," he said.

"Well," said Ingleby, "it's a thing he very seldom does,
and I feel almost sure the last shot came from a different
direction, and was farther off. Probably Trooper Probyn
fired at something in the bush."

It was an unfortunate suggestion, for the corporal, who
had spent a good many years on the lonely levels of the
prairie, was, with some reason, proud of his fine sense of
hearing, and it by no means pleased him that a young
man new to the wilderness should presume to throw the
least doubt upon his ability to locate a rifle shot. This
naturally confirmed him in his belief in the correctness of
his opinion.

"It was Tomlinson who fired twice," he said. "I guess
Probyn knows better than to blaze away Government
ammunition without permission."

Ingleby said nothing. The point was, or so it appeared
to him, of no importance ; and the three, drawing in closer
to the fire, sat smoking in silence while the pale stars came
out above the pines. At last there was a tramp of feet,
and Tomlinson strode out of the shadows carrying a deer
with its forelegs drawn over his shoulders. He threw it
down, and stood flushed and gasping, with the firelight on

184 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

his face. Ingleby fancied he did not see the corporal,
who could, however, see him.

"I suppose you didn't meet Trooper Probyn?" asked
Sewell.

Tomlinson started a little, and there was for a moment
a curious look in his face, which did not escape the cor-
poral's attention.

"No," he said shortly. "I don't know that I want to.
What is he doing here?"

"He went out to meet an Indian who's to show us a
trail across the divide," said the corporal. "Bode out
'most an hour ago. He'd keep the range side."

"Then, as I came down the south fork of the creek,
I wouldn't have met him, anyway," said Tomlinson
promptly. He stood still a moment, and then turned to
Ingleby. "Hang that deer up, Walter. I'll have supper, if
it's ready."

Sewell set food and a can of green tea before him, and
he ate in silence until Ingleby glanced at him.

"Did you get that deer a little while ago?" he said.

"No. It was two hours since, anyway."

"Still, we heard you shooting."

Tomlinson, who was an excellent shot, and somewhat
proud of the fact, laughed in a slightly embarrassed
fashion.

"Well," he said, "I guess you may have done so, but I
didn't get the deer. It was in the fern, and the light was
going. I just got the one shot, and it was too dark to
follow up the trail."

"One shot?" said Ingleby, with a little smile. "The
corporal heard two, both close together, and there certainly
was another."

"Then it was another man who fired it," said Tomlinson
shortly. "I guess I don't often waste cartridges."

The corporal, who was usually a trifle persistent* took

INGLEBY GOES AWAY 185

tip Tomlinson's rifle and pushed back the slide of the
magazine.

"A forty-four Marlin ! It was full when you went out?"
he said.

"Yes, sir. Two cartridges gone. You'll find one bullet
in yonder deer."

The corporal, for no particular reason, jerked a cart-
ridge into the chamber, and then snapped it out. "You
use nicked bullets?"

Tomlinson did not, as everybody noticed, appear exactly
pleased. In fact, it was not difficult to fancy that he
was a trifle embarrassed. It is a little easier to bring
down a deer with a bullet that will split up into a torn
strip of metal when it meets a bone than with one that has
a solid nose and makes a clean, punctured wound.

"Well," he said, "I don't know any reason why I
shouldn't, and now and then I get the hack-saw and cut
one or two across. When I go shooting it's a deer I want."

Nothing more was said on that point, though Ingleby
fancied that the corporal was a little incredulous still,
He rose, and looked up the trail as though listening.

"I can't quite figure what is keeping Probyn," he said.
" The Indian was to meet him at sundown, where the North
Creek fork twists round the rocks, and he should have beeii
back by now."

They sat silent a minute or two, but no sound came out
of the silence of the pines. There was not even the murmur
of water. The wilderness was very still.

Then Tomlinson laughed. "Perhaps he's not coming
back."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well," said the miner, "I've heard Esmond has been
worrying the boys lately. They don't seem quite fond of
him, anyway. It kind of seemed to me Probyn might have
lit out without you."

Now it is not often that a trooper takes the risk of dis-

186 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

charging himself from the ranks of the Northwest Police,
but the thing has been done. It was, however, unfortunate
that Tomlinson made the suggestion. The corporal's face
grew a trifle grim as he looked, at him.

"I've no use for that kind of talk," he said. "There's
not a man up here I'm not 'most as sure of as I am of
myself."

"Then he's probably up there with the Indian," said.
Ingleby. "It would be a little risky leading a horse down
the big gully in the dark."

Another hour passed, and as there was still no appear-
ance of Trooper Probyn, the corporal decided that Ingleby
was right, and, rolling themselves in their blankets, they
lay down inside the tent. Tbey were fast asleep when a
beat of hoofs came out of the silence of the night as a
jaded horse floundered along the hillside, and the corporal
wakened only when there was a trampling of undergrowth
outside the tent. He shook the blankets from him and.
stood up.

"Is that you, Probyn? Tether the beast and come in,"
he said.

There was no answer, and. the corporal, stooping sud-
denly, touched Tomlinson's shoulder.

"I guess you had better get up. You're awake, Ingleby ?"
he asked.

Ingleby, who had been roused by the sound, noticed that
he had not asked Tomlinson this; but they were both on
their feet in another moment and went out of the tent.
The fire had almost burned out, but a few red brands still
gave a faint light, and the spires of the pines seemed a
little blacker and sharper than they had been when the
men went to sleep. It was very cold, for dawn was coming,
and they shivered a little as they looked about them. There
was nothing to excite apprehension, only a jaded horse
that stood just within the uncertain light with loose bridle
and lowered head, but Ingleby felt a curious uneasiness

INGLEBY GOES AWAY 187

come upon him. The sight was unpleasantly sug-
gestive.

"Probyn!" the corporal called again.

There was no answer, and, though he scarcely knew why,
Ingleby felt that he did not expect one. Then the horse,
moving very lamely, walked up to the corporal, whom it
apparently recognized, and he laid a hand upon the bridle. '

"Throw on a piece or two of wood and stir the fire," he
said.

Ingleby did it, and nothing more was said until a blaze
sprang up. Then the corporal ran his hand along the
horse's coat. There was a smear of blood on it when he
glanced at it.

"Been travelling quite fast before he dried," he said.
"Through some thick bush, too; here's a scar where a
branch ripped the hide. Looks to me as though he'd been
scared and bolted, though I don't quite see what has
lamed him."

The rest watched him with a curious intentness while
he lifted one of the beast's hoofs. It was plain to all of
them that there was something wrong, but nobody cared to
give his misgivings vent. Then as the firelight blazed up
a little more Ingleby touched the corporal.

"You are looking in the wrong place," he said.

The corporal raised his head, and saw a deep, red scar.
Stooping, he drew a brand from the fire, and the men looked
at one another uneasily when he held it up.

"Yes," he said grimly. "That was made by a bullet.
I figure the beast was going away from the man who
fired it."

Again there was silence for almost a minute. The pines
were growing a trifle blacker and clearer in outline, and
it was very cold. Ingleby shivered again, for a curious
creepy feeling troubled him. The corporal stood very still,
a tense black figure, apparently gazing fixedly at Tomlinson.
It was the latter who spoke first.

188 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"I fired once — at the deer," he said.

"Well," said the corporal, with a curious certainty that
jarred on Ingleby's nerves, "Probyn's back yonder, and it
will be daylight in an hour. "We'd better look for him."

Then he turned towards the jaded horse. "It's kind of
unfortunate that beasts can't talk."

Nobody said anything further, and they plodded silently
into the gloom that still shrouded all the hillside. It was
dusk when they came back again, but they had found no
sign of Trooper Probyn, or anything that might account
far his disappearance, except an empty 44-cartridge lying
not far from his trail.

XIX

TROOPER PROBYN COMES BACK

TT was late next night when the corporal reached the
police outpost, and on the following morning Esmond
and Major Coulthurst sat at a little table in the latter's
dwelling. The corporal, who had told his story concisely,
had just gone out, and Coulthurst, who rolled an unlighted
cigar between his fingers, was grave in face. Esmond
glanced at him inquiringly.

"It is, in one respect, not exactly your business ; but y«u
and I are between us responsible for the tranquillity of the
Green River country, and I should be glad of your opinion,
sir," he said. "I don't want to make a mistake just now.
There is no doubt that most of the men are in an uncertain
temper, and they do not seem pleased with me."

Coulthurst smiled, a trifle drily. "I presume you don't
want me to go into that?"

"No. The fact is, after all, of no great importance.
The point is — what do you make of the corporal's story?"

The major appeared to be taxing his brain for a moment
or two. "Not being a detective, I can make nothing at
all. I suppose he is trustworthy?"

"As reliable a man as there is in the force. Let me try
to set out what we know. Tomlinson thrashed Probyn
and pitched him into the creek. Neither of them would
explain the cause of the trouble, which is a trifle signifi-
cant; but Tomlinson was heard to say that if the trooper
played the same game again he would kill him. He is

189

190 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

apparently not an impulsive man, and the corporal seems
to think it was a warning and not mere bluster."

"That," said Coulthurst, "gives you a little to go upon.
We can admit that Tomlinson fancied he had a grievance
against the trooper. He is not the man to say a thing of
that kind without sufficient reason."

"Then Probyn leaves Sewell's camp, and never comes
back. Sewell, Ingleby, and the corporal hear two shots,
apparently from the same part of the range."

"I understand Ingleby does not admit that."

Esmond smiled. "One would scarcely expect Ingleby to
agree with a corporal of police. Still, I may point out that
he has been less than a year in the bush, and the corporal
has, at least, spent most of his life on the prairie. You
know the effect the life my troopers lead has in quickening
the perceptions. Most of them could locate and tell you
the meaning of a sound I couldn't hear at all."

Coulthurst made a sign of concurrence. "His view is
certainly worth a good deal more than Ingleby's. Still, ad-
mitting that the two shots were fired from about the same
place, it doesn't necessarily follow that they were fired by
the same person."

"We know that, leaving out ProbjTi, Tomlinson and the
Indian could have been the only men on that part of the
range just then. When Tomlinson appeared he seemed
disconcerted to find the corporal there. He also showed
signs of embarrassment when questioned about the shots,
and persisted that he fired no more than one. When told
which way the trooper had gone he stated that he had come
in just the opposite one. It is significant that he did not
mention where he had been until then. Several hours later
Probyn's horse came back grazed by a bullet, and a forty-
four cartridge was found beside the trail. That is the size
of rifle Tomlinson uses."

"It seems to me the several hours are the difficulty."

"Not necessarily. Whoever shot Trooper Probyn would

TROOPER PROBYN COMES BACK 191

naturally be afraid of his horse doing exactly what it did,
and fired at it. The wounded beast would probably run as
long as it was able. It is evident that it must have smashed
through several thickets. Somebody fired at it, and the
man who did so was the one who shot Probyn."

"You don't know he was shot. I'm not sure I should
find it necessary to keep quite as tight a hand on your
troopers as you do," said the major suggestively.

Esmond flushed a little. "I feel absolutely certain the
lad never intended to give us the slip."

"There were two men in the vicinity about that time,"
said Coulthurst reflectively.

"Tomlinson was known to have a grievance against
Probyn. The Indian, who apparently did not turn up at
all, had never seen him. Men do not kill one another with-
out a strong inducement, and nobody would expect to find
much money on a police trooper."

"His carbine," said the major, "would be worth a little."

"The man had an excellent rifle of his own."

"Well," said Coulthurst, "it is tolerably easy to see
what all this points to, but I could never quite believe
Tomlinson would do the thing. There's another point that
strikes me."

Esmond appeared expectant, though he had consulted
Coulthurst more from a sense of duty than because he
looked for any brilliant suggestion.

"It's rather an important one," said the major gravely.
"You can't well have a murder without a corpse, you see."

Esmond failed to hide a little sardonic smile. "That is
a trifle obvious, sir. You have no advice to offer me ?"

"I have. It's good as far as it goes. Lie low, and keep
your eyes open until you find Probyn."

Esmond rose. "I suppose that is the only thing, after
all, though it looks very much like wasting time. I feel
quite sure there will be a nicked forty-four bullet in him
when I do."

192 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He went out; but the longer he considered the major's
advice the more reasonable it appeared to him. Esmond,
with all his shortcomings, had a keen sense of duty, and
had he consulted his own inclination would have wasted no
time in seizing Tomlinson. He was, however, quite shrewd
enough to recognize that he was not regarded with favour,
and that, although the major did not seem to realize it,
the miners were not likely to content themselves with
looking on while he did anything that did not meet their
views. He had reasons for believing that once Tomlin-
son's culpability was evident he need expect no trouble
from them; but it was equally plain that unless he had
definite proof it would be a risky thing to lay hands on
him. Esmond was arrogant and impulsive, but he had
discovered in the Northwest that it is not always advisable
to run counter to popular opinion, and in this case there
was a faint probability that Tomlinson's friends might be
right. He therefore set himself to wait as patiently as he
could until Trooper Probyn should be found; while the
men, who for the most part believed Probyn to be living,
waited for him to come back — which he eventually did,
though by no means in the fashion they had expected.

There had been a sudden rise of temperature, and a warm
wind from the Pacific had sent the white mists streaming
across the mountain land. It had rained for several days,
as it usually does in the northern wilderness in those
circumstances, and the snow on the lower slopes had
melted under the warm deluge. The river swirled by,
thick with the wreckage of the forests the snow had brought
down, frothing between its crumbling banks ; and on a cer-
tain Saturday evening most of the men in the valley as-
sembled by the ford where the trail crept perilously down
the opposite side of the canon. It appeared very doubtful
whether any man or beast could cross it then, but the
freighter, with mails and provisions, was already overdue,
and they had awaited him anxiously for a week or so. It

TROOPER PROBYN COMES BACK 193

was possible that he might arrive that evening; and, in any
case, the six o'clock supper was over and there was very-
little else to do.

Ingleby, Leger, Hetty, and Tomlinson were there with
the rest, and they sat among the roots of a great cedar
where it was a little drier. The rain had stopped at last,
but all the pines were dripping, and the river came swirling
out of a curtain of drifting mist. The hoarse roar it made
filled all the canon.

Hetty was vacantly watching the slow whirl of an eddy
when a great trunk that plunged into it held her eye. It
had been a stately hemlock well over a hundred feet in
height and great of girth, and now it gyrated slowly round
the pool, a splendid wreck, with far-flung limbs that
thrashed the water as they rose and fell. Then the great
butt tilted, and there was a crash that rang high above the
turmoil of the flood as the branches that smashed and
splintered struck a boulder whose wet head rose just above
the foam. The forks held for a moment, and then the
ponderous trunk swung again and, with its shattered limbs
whirling about it, drove madly down the white rush of a
rapid.

It was an impressive sight, and the sound of rending
and smashing was more impressive still; but when the
trunk had gone Hetty found her attention fixed upon the
pool. It swirled and lapped upon the rocks with, nothing
on its surface now but muddy smears of foam, but she
watched it with a vague sense of expectancy. It seemed
to her that she and that sullen eddy alike were waiting
for what should follow. Another trunk, with branches
that heaved out of the turmoil and sank into it again, was
coming down the river, but a dusky, half-submerged object
slid on in front of it. Hetty could scarcely see it save
when it was lifted by the buffeting of the flood, until it
plunged into the head of the eddy. Then she rose sud-
denly.

19* DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Look at it," she said. "It's like — a bundle of old
clothes !"

Ingleby, who was nearest her, stood up. The light was
growing dim in the canon, and it was a moment before
he could make out what she pointed to. Hetty, however,
was staring at it with a curious intensity, and there was, he
noticed, apprehension in her eyes. The object drove on
quietly, an insignificant dusky blur, swinging and swaying
with the pulsations of the river, and Ingleby felt the girl's
hand close suddenly on his arm.

"Oh," she said, with a little gasp, "it's coming straight
here. I'm afraid of it, Walter."

The thing swung in towards them with the whirl of the
eddy, and Ingleby had for a moment a glimpse of a white
patch in the water that was horribly suggestive of a face.
Then he seized Hetty's hand, and drew her with him as
he turned away.

"Stay there!" he said, when a great pine rose between
them and the river, and went scrambling back to the
water's edge.

Two or three other men, among whom was Tomlinson,
had reached it by this time, and Sewell stood on a boulder
gazing at the stream, while the dusky object, drawn almost
under now, swung by amidst a rush of foam. Then he
stepped down, and looked steadily at the men about him.

"I fancy Trooper Probyn has come back," he said.

Ingleby was close beside him, and for a moment the two
men looked into each other's eyes. In less than another
minute the object they had seen would swing out with the
outflow at the tail of the pool, and the long white rapid
would whirl it beyond their reach into the gloom again.
Night was close at hand, and, if they let him pass, Trooper
Probyn would by morning have travelled far into the heart
of a wilderness where it was scarcely likely that any of them
would ever overtake him. The rivers of the North run
fast, and that is a country wherein the strongest man must

TROOPER PROBYN COMES BACK 195

travel slowly. It seemed to Ingleby that it might be better
to let him go. Then he was ashamed of the doubt that
this implied, and Sewell, who knew what he was thinking,
glanced for just a second in Tomlinson's direction.

"One can't hide the truth. It will come out," he said,
and then raised his voice. "That's a man we have some-
thing to do for. The rapid will have him in a minute,
boys."

Tomlinson was first into the water, with Ingleby almost
at his side, and the rest floundering and splashing close be-
hind. They went straight, while the thing that swung
with the eddy went round, but they were in the lip of the
rapid before they came up with it. Ingleby gasped as he
braced himself against the flood which broke in a white
swirl to his waist, while the stream-borne gravel smote his
legs, and he clutched at the big miner as Trooper Probyn
drove down on them.

He evaded Tomlinson, but Ingleby, stooping, seized his
uniform, and tightened his hold on his companion as his
feet were dragged from under him. He could almost have
fancied that Trooper Probyn struggled to be free from
them, and while the current frothed about him Tomlinson
was dragged backwards by the strain. Ingleby went under,
still clinging fiercely to the sodden tunic, and for a second
or two it seemed that all of them, the dead and the living,
must go down the rapid together, in which case no man
could have distinguished between them when they were
washed out at the tail of it. Then a man clinging to his
comrade with one hand seized Tomlinson; there was a
straining of hardened muscles, a wild splashing and floun-
dering, and, while one who leaned across a boulder gasped
and wondered if his arm was leaving its socket, the line
swung into slack water again. Still, Ingleby had driven
against a stone with a thud that drove out most of the little
breath left in him.

They brought Probyn ashore between them, and Sewell,

196 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"who kept his head, left them a moment and went straight
up the bank, where he came upon Hetty standing with
hands closed at her sides. She could see very little beyond
a group of men bending over something that lay between
them.

"Go back to the shanty. Make a big fire and some
coffee," he said.

Hetty did not seem to understand him. "Tomlinson
held on to him, but he struck a stone," she said. "I
couldn't see any more, but — of course — you brought him
out? Is he hurt?"

Sewell looked astonished. "Hurt !" he said. "You must
know that the man is dead."

Then comprehension dawned upon him, as he remem-
bered that he had for several anxious moments fancied that
the man who seized Trooper Prob}Tn would drive with him
down the rapid.

"I scarcely think Tom is any the worse — and Ingleby
appears to have got off with a bruise on his head," he said.

He saw the sudden relief in Hetty's face, for she had not
remembered the need of reticence then; but she turned
away from him silently, and he went back to the river,
where the group made way for him. Sewell, who held only
an unremunerative claim, was already an influence in the
Green Kiver country.

The light was rapidly failing, but he could still see the
faces of the men, who turned to him as though uncertain
what to do. Tomlinson stood still among the rest, and his
voice and attitude were both unmistakably compassionate.

"I hove him into the creek. I 'most wish I hadn't now,7'
he said. "He was young and had no sense, but there was
good hard sand in him."

Sewell turned, and looked down on Trooper Probyn, who
lay very still, a rigid shape in sodden uniform, with the
water running from him, and his face partly turned away
from them, which was just as well.

TROOPER PROBYN COMES BACK 19*7,

"Two of you go for Captain Esmond, boys," he said.
"It will be some time before you make the outpost, and I
want the rest of you. There is something we have to do
in the meanwhile. The police make mistakes now and
then, and it is, I think, our business as well as Captain
Esmond's."

He knelt down, and presently pointed to a little hole,
very small and cleanly cut, in the soaked tunic.

"I think you know what made that," he said. "One of
you get down. I can't do what is necessary, alone."

Nobody seemed very anxious, which was, perhaps, not
astonishing, and it was not until Sewell looked up again
that Ingleby, who shivered a little, knelt down. He won-
dered when he 6aw that Sewell's fingers were very steady
as he opened the tunic and saturated vest. Then the latter
signed to the men to draw a little nearer, and pointed to
what appeared to be a folded pad of wet cotton held in
place by a strip of hide. He moved it a little so that all
could see it, and then let the tunic fall again. Ingleby was,
however, the only one who noticed that there was some-
thing in Sewell's hand that had not been there before.

"There is nothing to show whether Trooper Probyn was
dead when he reached the water, though I think he was,"
he said. "He was certainly shot, and it is Evident that he
did not shoot himself. His uniform isn't charred, you see.
Then you saw the pad. Police troopers do not make their
shirts or patch their clothes with cotton flour-bags, and a
man hit where Probyn was would not be very likely to
bandage himself. The man who shot him tried to save
his life. Why should he do that if he meant to kill him?"

There was no answer, and Sewell stood up. "We don't
know what has happened, boys. Perhaps we never shall;
but it seems to me one thing is certain — it wasn't murder."

There was a little murmur of concurrence, and then
Sewell made a gesture.

"It's getting dark, and we're most of us very wet," he

198 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

said. "One or two of you cut a few fir boughs, and we'll
make a litter."

It was done, and in another few minutes a line of wet
and silent men plodded behind their comrades who carried
Trooper Probyn up the climbing trail.

XX

ACCESSOEIES

pSMOND was not at the outpost when the messengers
reached it, nor was the corporal there, and it was
two troopers to whom the miners delivered the dead lad.
This fact, however, appeared to aiford Sewell a certain
satisfaction, and he and Tomlinson went hack with Ingleby
through the growing darkness to Leger's shanty. It was
once more raining hard when they reached it, and when
Hetty had set a kettle of coffee before them they sat steam-
ing in the little log-walled room with the door shut. Each
of them was aware that there was a good deal to be said,
and in all probability little time in which to say it; but
the subject was difficult, and Hetty had cleared the table
when Sewell turned to Tomlinson.

"There's a plant in this country whose leaves the Indians
believe are efficacious in stopping blood," he said. "I
wonder if you could tell me where to find it?"

Tomlinson looked up with evident astonishment.

"If there is, I never heard of it," he answered. "I've
no use for worrying 'bout any plants just now."

Then he glanced round at the faces of the rest, and his
eyes rested a moment upon Hetty. "I'm in a tight place,
but you don't believe I did the thing?"

"Of course not!" said Hetty, with a little flash in her
eyes. "Why don't you answer him, some of you?"

Ingleby would have spoken, but Sewell held up his hand.
"I'm not sure you know how tight the place is, Tomlinson.
If you'll listen I'll try to show you."

199

200 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He spoke for two or three minutes, and even Ingleby,
who had long looked up to him as a man of brilliant ability,
was a trifle astonished at the acumen which marked every
point of the tersely logical exposition. It apparently left
no loophole for doubt as to who had killed Trooper Probyn,
and once or twice Leger moved uneasily. There was, how-
ever, a little incredulous smile in Hetty's eyes.

"Now," said Sewell incisively, "have you anything to
tell us?"

Tomlinson sat gazing at them stupidly, with the veins
on his bronzed forehead swollen, and a dusky hue in his
face. Ingleby was troubled as he watched him, and Leger
leaned forward in his seat as though in a state of tense
expectancy, but still the faint smile flickered in Hetty's
eyes. For almost a minute they could hear the wailing of
the pines and the rain falling on the roof. Then Tomlinson
spoke.

"I fired once — at a deer. Thaf s all," he said.

Ingleby was conscious at once of a certain sense of shame
and an intense relief, for he recognized the truth in the
miner's voice, and Sewell had set out with relentless ef-
fectiveness the view the prosecution might be expected to
take. The latter laughed as he glanced at Hetty.

"Yon would not have believed he did it if I had talked
for hours ?" he asked.

"No," said Hetty simply.

Sewell made her a little inclination, and then turned to
the rest with a smile.

"We have only reason to guide us, and we argue
clumsily," he said. "Women, we are told, have none — in
their case it apparently isn't necessary. They were made
differently. Insight, it seems, goes along with the charity
that believes no evil."

It was not evident that Hetty quite understood him, for
she sat looking at the fire with hands crossed in her lap,
and Sewell turned to Tomlinson.

ACCESSORIES 201

"I think the boys would believe you, as we do, but that,
after all, scarcely goes very far. We have Esmond and the
corporal to consider, and they are certainly not troubled
with instinctive perceptions or any excess of charity. What
is more to the purpose, they wouldn't try you here."

Tomlinson made a little forceful gesture. "Now, if I'd
nobody else to think of I'd stop right where I am; but
there's an old woman back there in Oregon who's had
trouble with the rest of us — 'most all she could bear — and
half of what I took out of the claim was to go to her. She
was just to sit still and be happy, and never work any more.
I guess it would break her heart if they hung me here in
Canada."

He stopped a moment, and glanced at Hetty. "Still,
she'd never believe I did it. She's like you."

There was very little on the face of the statement, but a
good deal lay behind it, as Hetty apparently realized, for
a flush spread across her cheek for a moment and then
faded away.

Tomlinson turned to the others with a gesture that was
merely clumsy now. "I'm going away, boys, and I want
a partner to hold my claim for me. If I leave it without an
owner it falls to the Crown. You'd do the square thing
by me and a widow woman on a half-share, Mr. Sewell?"

It was an offer most men would have eagerly closed with,
but Sewell shook his head.

"You must ask some one else — it wouldn't do," he said.
"I have never taken a dollar I didn't earn, and, you see,
I would scarcely have tried to show you that you must
clear out right away if I had meant to make a profit by
your doing so."

Tomlinson smiled a little. "Is there a man along the
Green Eiver who'd believe that of you ?"

"There are," said Sewell drily, "at least a few in other
places who would be glad to make the most of the story.
In fact, if certain papers got hold of it, I'm not sure I

202 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

could live it down. That wouldn't matter greatly, only,
you see, a professional agitator's character doesn't belong
to himself alone. Still, you are quite right on one point.
You must have a partner — now. The agreement could,
perhaps, be upset if it was made after it was known that
there was a warrant out for you."

It appeared to all of them that Sewell had thrown away
an opportunity for winning what might amount to a com-
petence for life; but he only smiled at Tomlinson, who
turned to Ingleby.

"Then it has to be you. A half-share, and you and
Leger can work the thing between you. Neither of you
is going to go back on me ?"

Ingleby almost gasped, and his face flushed a little. It
had seemed quite fitting that the offer should be made to
Sewell, but there was no apparent reason why it should be
thrust on him. He also saw that Leger was as little anxious
to profit by it as he was himself.

"Do you suppose I would take advantage of your neces-
sity by making a bargain of that kind?" he asked.

Tomlinson made a clumsy gesture. "You'd have to let
your own claim go. A man can't hold two placer claims,
and you're on the lead," he said. "I've got to have a
partner, and I guess I'm not offering any more than the
thing's worth to me."

"He's right in one respect," said Sewell. "There are,
of course, men in the valley who would be glad to take
the claim on a smaller share — but they're not here now,
and Esmond and his troopers may turn up at any minute.
Besides, the prospects of your finding gold on the claim
you hold are tolerably good."

"I'll be gone in 'bout five minutes," said Tomlinson
quietly. "If none of you will have the claim, it falls to
the Crown."

That, at least, was evident, and Leger nodded when
Ingleby glanced at him.

ACCESSORIES 203

"A half -share is more than you are entitled to, but what
you can do for Tomlinson is, as he pointed out, worth
something, and you would have to let your own claim go,"
he said.

"Then I'll offer him a thousand dollars for a third share,
on condition that he takes a four months' bill for them.
I'll divide the risk and profit with you, Leger."

Leger smiled. "It seems to me Tomlinson is taking
all the risk there is. If you don't find the money in the
mine it's scarcely likely that you will meet the bill. Still,
the notion's a good one. The thing has a more genuine
look when it's based on value received."

The agreement was drawn up hastily on a scrap of un-
cleanly paper with Sewell's fountain pen, but he made it
hard and fast, while Hetty flitted busily between the shed
and the shanty. Then Sewell carefully wiped and put
away his pen.

"Do you know where you're going, Tomlinson?" he
asked.

"No," said the miner simply, "I hadn't quite thought
of that."

"Then if you head south for the settlements you will
certainly be overtaken. In fact, I'm not sure the corporal
will not have sent a man along the trail already. You
can't live in the ranges with nothing to eat, and that only
leaves Westerhouse. They would never expect you to strike
out for there, but if you will listen for two minutes I'll
tell you the trail."

He was scarcely so long, for time was precious, but,
though few men unused to the wilderness would have
understood or remembered most of what he said, it was
quite plain to Tomlinson, who nodded.

"Well," he said, "I'll light out when I've got the major
to record the agreement."

They pointed out that this was not exactly necessary
and entailed a risk, but Tomlinson was quietly resolute.

204 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"I'm going away to save my claim, and I'll make quite
sure," he said. "It's an old woman back in Oregon I
want the money for. She hasn't another son — they're all
gone but me. Well, I guess I'm ready. The troopers
would pick up my trail if I took a horse along."

He was scarcely a minute stowing the provisions Hetty
thrust upon him inside two blankets, which he rolled up
and lashed with strips of deer-hide to pack upon his back ;
and he wasted no time in thanks ; but when Sewell opened
the door he walked gravely up to the girl, and laid both
his big hands on the one she held out to him.

"I guess I'm not going to worry you any more. It's
scarcely likely I'll ever come back," he said.

Hetty's face flushed a little, and there was a slight tremor
in her voice.

"It's all my fault," she said.

Tomlinson slowly shook his head. "You couldn't do
anything that wasn't just right if you tried, and you'll
think of me now and then," he said. "I'm going to re-
member you while I live."

He did not wait for her answer, but turned abruptly
away, and Hetty stood still a moment with hot cheeks
and misty eyes. Then she moved hastily forward, and
touched Ingleby's arm as he went out of the door.

"There's one of the horses in the swamp. Couldn't
you put the pack-saddle on him and make a trail down
to the ford?" she said. "The troopers couldn't help
seeing it. The ground's quite soft."

Ingleby laughed. "Of course! It's an inspiration,
Hetty."

He was some little time catching the horse, and when
he reached the commissioner's house Coulthurst was al-
ready sitting with a book in front of him. He looked up
with a little dry smile when Ingleby came in.

"It is after my usual office hours, but I understand from
Mr. Sewell that you are anxious I should register you to-

ACCESSORIES 205

night as one of the owners of the claim held by Tomlin-
son?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," said Ingleby. "There are one or two reasons
that make it advisable."

He fancied there was a very faint twinkle which might
have suggested comprehension in Coulthnrst's eyes as the
latter took up a pen.

"Then I think I can make an exception in your case,
especially as Tomlinson seems equally anxious, and we will
get the business done," he said.

There was silence for a minute or two, and they waited
with an impatience that was the fiercer because it was
suppressed while Coulthurst turned over the papers in
front of him and took down a book. There was bo sound
but the splashing of the rain upon the roof and the
snapping of the little stove, but Ingleby felt his nerves
tingle as he listened. Coulthurst, however, closed the book
at last and handed him a paper.

"That should meet your requirements, and it will be
quite in order for you to carry on the work at the claim
should Tomlinson be absent from any cause," he said, and
stopping abruptly looked up as though listening. "I fancy
you were wise in getting the agreement recorded — now.
Delays, as you are aware, are apt to be especially danger-
ous in case of a placer claim."

He appeared to busy himself again with his book; but
Tomlinson rose suddenly, and stood a moment, tense and
strung up, with head turned towards the door, as a sound
that suggested men and horses splashing in the mire
reached them faintly through the rain. Then he stepped
forward towards the veranda by which they had entered,
but Ingleby seized his arm and pointed towards the other
door at the back of the room. He and Sewell knew that one
could reach the bush that way through the outbuilt kitchen.

Coulthurst, who could not see the door from where he
sat, looked up from his book for just a moment, and did

206 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

not appear to notice that Tomlinson was no longer in front
of him.

"I presume there is nothing more I can do for you,
and that is apparently Captain Esmond. I think he has
some business with me," he said.

The hint that he would excuse them was plain enough,
even if it went no further, and he drew another bundle
of papers towards him. This, no doubt, accounted for
the fact that he failed to notice that while Leger and
Sewell moved towards the veranda, Ingleby slipped out
through the other door. Sewell, however, gasped with
relief when he saw it swing silently to. Just then there
was a tramp of feet outside, and in another few moments
Esmond sprang upon the veranda, splashed with mire and
dripping with rain. Two wet troopers appeared behind
him, carbines in hand. He stopped them with a little
gesture of command, and then, striding past Sewell and
Leger into the room, appeared to have some difficulty in
restraining himself when he saw only the major there.

"You will excuse me for coming in unceremoniously,
sir, but I had reasons for believing Tomlinson was here,"
he said.

"He was here," said Coulthurst. "In fact, I don't quite
understand how it was you didn't meet him going away."

"I certainly did not," and Esmond flashed a keen glance
at him. "If I had done so, I should naturally not have
troubled you about him."

Coulthurst appeared reflective.

"He was here. In fact, I have just done some business
for him," he said, and stopped; for one of the troopers
cried out, and all could hear a thud of hoofs and the
smashing of undergrowth. Coulthurst glanced suggestively
at Esmond.

"That sounds very much like somebody riding through
the bush," he said.

Esmond certainly wasted no time now in ceremony. He

ACCESSORIES 207

was on the veranda in another moment and shouting to
the trooper, who led up a horse. They vanished amidst
a rustle of trampled fern, and Sewell laughed as he and
Leger turned back towards the shanty.

"One could fancy Major Coulthurst belonged to the
aristocracy some of our friends are pleased to consider
played out; but there are at least signs of intelligence
in him," he said. "He is, by the way, I am somewhat
proud to claim, a friend of mine, though that is, of course,
no compliment to him."

"Well," replied Leger drily, "it is seldom wise to general-
ize too freely, which is a mistake we make now and then.
After all, it may be a little hard on the major to blame him
for being a gentleman. He probably couldn't help it, you
see."

He had spoken lightly to hide his anxiety; but now
he stopped a moment and stood listening intently. A
faint sound of splashing and scrambling came up out of
the hollow through the rain.

"It's not a trail most men would care to ride down in
daylight, but they seem to be facing it," he said. "If
they caught Ingleby it would complicate the thing."

"It's scarcely likety," said Sewell. "He got away two
or three minutes before they did."

"The difficulty is that Ingleby can't ride as you and
the troopers can."

Sewell touched his shoulder.

"Listen," he said, and Leger heard the roar of the
river throb across the dripping pines. "When they get
near the ford the troopers are scarcely likely to hear
anything else through that, and they would naturally not
expect the man they're after to double back for the canon.
If they push on as they seem to be doing, they should be a
good way down the trail by morning."

They both laughed at this, and were sitting in the shanty

208 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

half an hour later when Ingleby limped in, smiling and
very miry, with his jean jacket badly split.

"Tomlinson got away?" he asked.

"Presumably," said Leger. "We were almost afraid
you hadn't. We haven't seen him. Where are Captain
, Esmond and his troopers?"

Ingleby laughed. "They were riding very recklessly
over an infamous trail with my horse in front of them
when I last saw them. I was just then behind a tree. The
beast I couldn't stop simplified the thing by flinging me
off. I hadn't any stirrups, perhaps fortunately."

"They'd catch the horse eventually," said Sewell.

"Of course! That is, if they could keep in the saddle
long enough, which is far from certain, considering the
state of the trail. Then they would naturally fancy that
Tomlinson had taken to the range. In fact, I shouldn't
wonder if they spent most of to-morrow looking for his
trail. Still, there is a question I should like to ask. Why
did you worry Tomlinson about that plant?"

Sewell took a little packet from his pocket and opened
it. There were one or two pulpy leaves inside it.

"Those grew on the plant in question, which Tomlinson
had never heard of. The Indians use them for stopping
blood," he said. "I took them from the body of Trooper
Probyn."

There was silence for a little while, and during it the
sound of the river came up to them in deep pulsations
through the roar of the rain. Then Leger laughed.

"I'm afraid Captain Esmond and his troopers will be
very wet," he said. "He is a capable officer, but such
simple-minded persons as Hetty and Ingleby are now and
then a match for the wise."

"Haven't you left somebody out?" asked Ingleby.

"Major Coulthurst," said Leger, "is, of course, the
Gold Commissioner, and could not be expected to have any
sympathy with such a man as Tomlinson. It would, in

ACCESSORIES 209

fact, be unpardonable to suggest that he could be an ac-
cessory. Still, it is, perhaps, not quite out of the question
that people outside the class to which Hetty and Ingleby
and I belong should possess a few amiable qualities."

"You and Ingleby and Hetty?" said Sewell reflectively.

Leger looked at him with a little smile.

"Yes," he said, "you heard me quite correctly. It's
not worth discussing, but I scarcely think one could place
you in quite the same category."

XXI

rA DOUBTFUL EXCHANGE

TT was the Monday morning after the flight of Tom-
linson when Ingleby stood beside a pile of debris on
the claim which was no longer his. The rain had stopped,
and there was a wonderful freshness in the mountain air.
Overhead the mists were streaming athwart the forest,
pierced by arrows of golden light, and the fragrance of
redwood and cedar filled the hollow. It is a scent that
brings sound rest to the jaded body when night closes
down and braces it as an elixir in the coolness of the dawn.
Ingleby drank it in with vague appreciation. There was
hope in it and vigour, and as he stood with the torn blue
shirt falling apart from his bronzed neck, looking out on
the forest with steady eyes, there was something in his
attitude which suggested the silent, hasteless strength of the
wilderness.

The impulsiveness which had afflicted him in England
had gone, and steadfastness had grown in its place. The
crude, half-formed thoughts and theories which had worked
like yeast in him had ceased their ebullition, purging
themselves, perhaps, by the froth of speech, and had left
him with a vague optimism too deep for articulate expres-
sion. Faith he had always had, and now the half-compre-
hending hope that looks beyond all formulas had also

2io

A DOUBTFUL EXCHANGE 211

come. So much, at least, the wilderness had done for
him. He laughed as he turned towards Sewell and Leger,
who sat on the pile of thrown-up gravel behind him.
"I've been standing here almost five minutes, doing
nothing — I don't know why," he said. "One does not, as
a rule, get rich that way in this country."

Leger grinned at him. "You have just finished a re-
markably good breakfast, for one thing," he said. "Still,
haven't you made an admission? You always knew why
you did everything in England."

Tnglehy smiled good-humouredly. "Well," he said, "I'm
seldom quite so sure now. Perhaps, it's because I'm
older — or it may be the fault of the country. Floods and
frosts, slides of gravel, and blue-grit boulders are apt to
upset the results one feels reasonably certain of here.
That recalls the fact that I broke out a quantity of promis-
ing-looking dirt the last time I went down this shaft, and
didn't try the colour."

"You have sunk several shafts now, and you're evi-
dently improving," said Sewell. "The original one wasn't
sunk or driven. It was scratched out, anyhow."

"Three or four, and I've made some two hundred dollars
out of the lot of them. In fact, I've been spending my
labour profitlessly ever since I came into the country. That
is, at least, so far as one can see."

Sewell smiled. "There's a good deal in the reservation.
The whole country's full of just such holes from Caribou
to Kootenay. A few men took gold out of them. The
rest put something in."

"Buried hopes," said Leger with a grin.
"Probably," answered Sewell. "Now and then buried
men. Still, the ranches and the orchards came up after
them. It was presumably good for somebody, although a
little rough on the prospectors in question."

Leger appeared reflective. "I wonder if any one could
grow plums and apples on Captain Esmond. In the Ian-

212 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

guage of the country it's about the only use it could have
for him. Well, I've smoked my pipe out. Are we going
to stay here and maunder any longer, Ingleby ?"

"I'm going down the mine; though, as it doesn't belong
to me now, I don't know why. Still, it's close on bottom,
and I'd like to try the colour of the dirt I broke out on
Saturday."

He went down the notched pole, and filled the bucket
Sewell lowered after him, and, when the latter hove it
up, they proceeded to the creek, and the others sat down
while Ingleby washed out its contents. Neither of them
showed any particular interest in what he was doing.
They had been some time in the gold-bearing region now,
and had discovered that it is generally wise to expect very
little. Then Ingleby scrambled up the bank with a curious
look in his face, and gravely held out the pan.

"Placer mining is a tolerably uncertain thing, but here's
a result I never anticipated two or three days ago," he
said. "Look at this!"

They bent over the pan, and their faces grew intent at
the sight of the little grains of metal in its bottom. Then
Leger looked up with a gasp.

"You've struck it again," he said. "Apparently as
rich as ever!"

Ingleby stood still a moment, gazing straight in front
of him with vacant eyes, and one hand closed a trifle at
his side.

"Yes," he said harshly. "The second time, and once
more it's of no use to me. When I recorded as part-owner
of Tomlinson's claim, this one fell in to the Crown. You're
on the lead, Tom, and you'll strike it, too; but you can
get your stakes in, Sewell. Sunday's an off day, or the
major would have had his notice out by now."

It was a relief to do anything just then, and he cut and
drove in two of the location pegs the law required. Then

A DOUBTFUL EXCHANGE 213

when the last was driven he turned to Sewell with grim
quietness.

"Well," he said, "why don't you get away and make
your record? There's no reason you should throw away
a fortune, too."

Sewell smiled a little. "For one thing, Major Coulthurst
would certainly not be up when I reached his office. For
another, before I record the claim there's something to
be said. The law, you see, cannot be expected to cover
every contingency, and, if you look at it from one point of
view, the claim is still yours. I'll buy the goodwill of you,
if you'll take my bill."

Ingleby shook his head impatiently. "I can't sell you
what isn't mine," he answered. "Anybody who thinks it
worth while can record that claim. It belongs to the
Crown. I have my share in Tomlinson's mine, and, in
one respect, I'm not sorry to see this one come into your
possession. You, at least, would not consider the gold
you took out belonged to yourself."

Sewell looked at him with an expression in his face
which somewhat puzzled Leger.

"No?" he said. "It's not wise to be too sure of any-
thing, Ingleby."

"I believe you told us you had struck gold once before.
What did you do with it ? When we met you in Vancouver
you hadn't the appearance of a man who has a balance at
his bank."

A suggestion of darker colour crept into Sewell's face.
" You can't carry on a campaign of any kind without funds.
The one I embarked upon not long before you came across
me was too big for us. It broke the exchequer, and landed
me in jail."

"Precisely!" said Ingleby. "And what title have I
to the money you would hold in trust ? That is the differ-
ence between us. I'm not a leader — I'm glad of it iust
now — and what gold I find I want for myself."

214 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Onee more Sewell's expression furnished Leger with food
for reflection, though Ingleby did not appear to notice it.
It is now and then a trifle embarrassing to have one's good
deeds proclaimed to one's face, and Leger was aware that
all Sewell gained was usually expended on the extension
of his propaganda; but that did not seem to account for
everything, and he fancied the man had winced at his
comrade's speech, as though it had hurt him. Then Sewell
made a curious little gesture.

"It is," he said, "seldom worth while to decide what
other people will do. They don't know themselves very
frequently. Well, since nobody ever persuaded you, I'll
get on and record the claim."

He left them, and neither Ingleby nor Leger broke the
silence as they pushed on up the valley, near the farther
end of which Tomlinson's claim lay. Leger knew that,
because his claim adjoined the one his comrade had allowed
to fall to the Crown, he, too, would in all probability find
gold, and, since now it would all be his, that fact alone was
sufficient to occupy him. Still, he was getting accustomed
to the dramatic unexpectedness of the results of placer
mining ; and he was also sensible of a certain sympathy for
Ingleby, who held no more than a third-share in Tomlin-
son's mine. Then he recalled Sewell's face and wondered
again.

The man had certainly appeared embarrassed, and that
had its significance in connection with what Ingleby had
said. Sewell was certainly entitled to use what gold he
dug toilfully from the earth as seemed best to him, and
there was no reason why he should devote it to the libera-
tion or enlightenment of those he might regard oppressed
unless he wished. That he had done so hitherto was, it
seemed to- Leger, plain ; but he fancied it was to be differ-
ent now. This led to the question, what did Sewell, who
lived with Spartan simplicity, want the gold for — and to
that there was no answer until he changed the what to

A DOUBTFUL EXCHANGE 215

whom. Then a reason suggested itself, for Sewell of late
had played chess with Major Coulthurst frequently, more
often, indeed, Leger fancied, than Ingleby knew.

It was a relief to both of them when they reached Tom-
linson's mine, which was by no means imposing at first
sight, consisting, as it did, of a little gap in the forest
strewn with blackened branches and charred fir stumps, a
shanty, a pile of shattered rock and gravel, and a black
hole with a very rude windlass straddling it. It did not
count at all that it was engirdled by towering trees whose
sombre spires, lifted one beyond the other in climbing
ranks, led the wondering vision upwards ever across the
face of a tremendous crag, where they clung dotted against
the grey rock in the fissures, to the ethereal gleam of
never-melting snow. It was sufficient that the clink of the
shovel and clatter of flung-up gravel came out of the
scented shadow, in token that Tomlinson's claim was on the
lead, the bed which had been worn out and left ages ago by
the Green Eiver, or some other, which had washed away
the matrix rock.

Ingleby stopped beside the windlass and rolled the sleeves
of his blue shirt to the elbow as he looked into the shadow
beneath him.

"Exactly what is down there I don't know, and it seems
a little astonishing now that I didn't ask Tomlinson when
I bought the mine," he said. "There should be a thousand
dollars, anyway. Tom, are you going to stand shares with
me?"

Leger looked at the shaft, and for no very apparent
reason became sensible of unpleasant misgivings.

"No," he said. "You hold only a third-share, anyway,
and I'm not sure that if you split it up there would be
enough for two. Still, I'll stay with you until this even-
ing. You should have some notion how the thing will work
out by then."

They went down and toiled steadily for several hours in

216 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

the short heading Tomlinson had driven. Then Leger
ascended and hove up the bucket Ingleby filled, after which
they transported the debris to the rocker at the adjacent
creek. Tomlinson's flume, which would bring the water
to the mine, was not finished yet. By the time this was
done the dinner hour had come, and Leger looked at In-
gleby as he took up his axe.

"Would you like to go on?" he asked.

"No," said Ingleby, with a little harsh laugh. "There
was a time when if Fd had no food since yesterday I should
not have stopped, but one gets over that. Besides, I almost
fancy we shall know quite soon enough what a third-share
in the Tomlinson mine is worth."

Leger made a fire, and Sewell appeared while they ate.

"I have made the record. How have you got on?" he
inquired.

Ingleby pointed to the pile of soil and stones and sand.
" So far. We are not going any farther until after dinner.
It is not very long since I turned prospector, but I have
twice bottomed on gold and had to let it go. The last
occasion was only two or three hours ago — and I'm not
quite sure I've got over it yet."

Sewell nodded sympathetically. "There is gold here —
though it's remarkable that nobody seems to know how
much," he said. "Tomlinson apparently was not com-
municative."

"That," said Ingleby, "is, of course, the question. If
there is not a good deal a third-share is scarcely likely to
recompense me for leaving the other claim, especially when
there is a thousand dollars to come out of this one. That's
one reason I'm getting dinner before I go any further. I
bought a pig in a poke, you see, and now I'm almost afraid
to open it."

"I wonder why you made the bargain, especially in view
of the fact that Tomlinson told you the chances of striking
gold on your own claim were good."

A DOUBTFUL EXCHANGE 217

Ingleby appeared a trifle confused. "Well," he said,
"Tomlinsc-n had found gold while I hadn't then — and one
naturally prefers a certainty. The man was in a difficulty,
too."

"Tomlinson, in fact, made use of the old woman back in
Oregon somewhat artistically."

Ingleby flushed a trifle. He was one who, though he had,
formerly, at least, proclaimed his views, nervously con-
cealed his charities.

"Tomlinson never meant to wrong me of a dollar. He
isn't that kind of man," he said.

"No," said Sewell, with a little laugh, "I scarcely think
he did. Well, are we to help you with the wash-up ?"

They toiled for awhile knee-deep in very cold water
while the rocker clashed and rattled, and Ingleby, whose
face grew a trifle grim as the time wore on, washed out
the residue of its contents in a little pan. Then, for the
others insisted, when there was a good deal of the pile left,
they went back to the mine; and the hour of supper had
crept round again when Ingleby came out of the stream
carrying the result of all that they had done in a little pan.
He stood still a moment in the shadow of the pines, and
his lips were set and his eyes unusually grave as he looked
at Sewell.

"If your new claim turns out dirt equal to what we
found this morning you will go South rich," he said. "I
would sooner you had it than anybody else — and I don't
think I grudge it you."

Sewell took the pan from him and glanced into it. "I'm
sorry," he said simply. "The thing is done now, and I
can't make you a partner unless you let Tomlinson's claim
go, which I presume you don't mean to do."

"That is, of course, quite out of the question. Tom-
linson went out believing it was safe with me."

"Then we come back to the other suggestion. I still
fancy you are entitled to sell me what one might consider

218 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

your option on the claim. There are men in the valley who
would have willingly handed you their bill for a thousand
dollars for the information you supplied me."

Ingleby looked at him steadily, with his head held back
a little.

"It already belonged to the Crown," he said. "Have I
ever done anything that would lead my friends to believe
they could bestow alms on me ?"

Sewell smiled. "I fancy there are one or two of them
who advocate a community of property !"

It occurred to Leger that it might be advisable to change
the subject. "I'm afraid we usually stop there," he said,
with a grin. "It has seemed to me lately that there are
two difficulties in the way of bringing an equitable division
about, though most people only recognize the obvious one,
which is, however, serious enough. I mean inducing the
people who have anything worth having to part with it."

"And the other?"

"The other," said Leger reflectively, "would consist in
inducing the people who have very little to receive it. There
are a few of them .who wouldn't be willing to do so — at
least, in the Colonies. They want to reap only what they
have sown."

"It isn't quite clear that they will be permitted."

Leger smiled drily, though he looked hard at Sewell.
"Well," he said, "I almost fancy one could leave it to
them. It would be an unfortunate thing for the men who
insisted on getting in the way of the sickle."

Then he turned to Ingleby, and laid a hand on his shoul-
der. "It might be worse," he said.

"Yes," answered Ingleby, who laughed a little, though it
cost him an effort, "considerably. The man who has what
is evidently a very good living in his hands really doesn't
deserve very much sympathy. Still, you see, I twice threw
away what looked like a fortune. Any one would find the
reflection apt to worrv him."

A DOUBTFUL EXCHANGE 219

They went away and left him sitting on a blackened
cedar stump in the desolate clearing. The clink of the
shovels no longer rose from beyond the sombre trees, and
there was deep stillness in the hollow. The gaps in the
forest grew duskier, and a peak across the valley flung a
cold blue shadow athwart the gleaming snow. The dew
was settling heavily; but Ingleby sat still, grave in face,
seeing nothing, until he rose with a little resolute shake of
his shoulders and, slipping down from the stump, took up
his axe.

He had twice thrown away a fortune, and with it, for a
time, at least, the prospect of realizing a very precious
hope ; but fortunes are now and then retrieved suddenly in
that country; and, in any case, a man who would work
must eat.

XXII

ALISON'S SATJLT

COME weeks had passed since Ingleby took over Tom-
linson's claim, when one lowering evening Grace
Coulthurst pulled np her cayuse pony in the depths of the
Green Eiver valley. Leaden cloud had veiled the peaks
since early morning, and now the pines were wailing dole-
fully beneath a bitter breeze. A little dust of snow, fine
and dry as flour, whirled about her, and the trail was. hard
as adamant beneath her pony's feet. The beast pricked
its ears and stamped impatiently, for it had been bred in
the wilderness and knew what was coming.

Grace, whose fingers were growing stiff, relaxed her grasp
on the bridle, and looked about her observantly, but with-
out uneasiness. She was some distance from home, and
daylight was dying out unusually early, while few horses
unaccustomed to the mountains could have scrambled over
either of the trails. There were two of them, foot-wide
tracks which climbed up and down steep hollows and
twisted round great fallen trees, and she had stopped at
the forking, though there was, she knew, very little to
choose between them.

The bush was a little thinner just there, but she could
see nothing beyond dim colonnades of towering trunks that
were rapidly fading into the gloom. The cold was nipping,
and she shivered when the breeze dropped a moment. The
silence was startling, and she felt it almost a relief when a
low crescendo murmur like the sound of distant surf rose

220

ALISON'S SAULT 221

from the pines as the wind awoke again. Then a puff of
powdery snow stung her tingling cheeks, and she shook the
bridle and turned the cayuse into the lower trail.

She had ridden to the mines at the head of the valley
early in the afternoon, while her father walked by her
stirrup, which, considering the nature of the trail, he had
no difficulty in doing. Indeed, he had led, and now and
then dragged, the horse up parts of it. There had, as not
infrequently happened, been a dispute concerning the
boundaries of a placer claim, and the commissioner had
gone over to adjudicate. He was not a brilliant man, but
he showed no one favour, and the whimsically expressed
decisions which he apparently blundered upon gave gen-
eral satisfaction and are still remembered in the Green
Eiver valley. It was also characteristic of him that he had
saved more than one difficult situation, in which a logical
exposition of the mining laws would probably have been
unavailing, by a little free badinage.

In the meanwhile his daughter, whom he had bidden ride
home, realized without any undue anxiety that it might be
advisable to reach there as soon as she could. She was at
home in the saddle, and rightly thought herself secure
from any difficulty that might not be occasioned by the
weather. The free miner is a somewhat chivalrous person,
which is going far enough by way of appreciation, since
the epithet which might suggest itself to those acquainted
with his characteristics has little meaning in the land to
which he belongs, where men have outgrown the need of
meretricious titles. Still, when a thin white haze blotted
out the dim colonnades and obscured the firs beside the
trail she strove to quicken the cayuse's pace a trifle. The
beast was apparently already doing what it could, clam-
bering up slopes of gravel, sliding down them amidst a
great clatter of stones, and turning and twisting amidst
tangled undergrowth.

Now and then a drooping branch whipped the girl as she

222 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

went by or shook the snow that was gathering on it into
her face, and the withered fern smote smears of white
powder across her skirt. Winter was closing in earlier
than any one had expected, and that night an Arctic cold
descended suddenly upon the lonely valley. Her hands
grew numb on the bridle, all sense of feeling seemed to go
out of the foot in the stirrup, and at last it was with diffi-
culty she pulled up the cayuse, which appeared as anxious
to get home as she was. They had floundered round the
spreading branches of a great fallen tree, and now there
no longer appeared to be a trail beneath them.

Grace shivered all through as she looked about her. The
pines were roaring in the sliding haze; the air was thick
with dust, not flakes, of snow. Here and there she could
dimly see a tree, but the white powder obscured her sight
and stung her face when she lifted it. She could not re-
member having passed that fallen tree when riding out, nor
could she recall how long it was since she had seen the
narrow trail in front of her. Where it was now she did not
know, but there was, at least, the sound of the river on one
side of her, when she could hear it across the moaning of
the trees. In heading for it she would probably strike the
trail again, and once more she spoke to the cayuse and
shook the bridle. She was becoming distinctly anxious
now.

Then a hazy object appeared suddenly a few yards in
front of her, and stopped at her cry, while in another
moment Ingleby was standing by her stirrup, and her ap-
prehensions melted away. It was significant that she was
by no means astonished. She felt that it was only fitting
that when she wanted him he should be there. The mere
sight of his face, of which she caught a faint glimpse, was
reassuring.

"Do you know that I am very glad I met you? Where
is the trail ?" she said.

Ingleby did not protest that it afforded him an equal

ALISON'S SAULT 223

gratification, and if he had done so it would probably not
have pleased her. Grace was critical, and rather liked the
reticence which was, it seemed, in harmony with his char-
acter— that is, since he had, fortunately, grown out of the
evil habit of discussing social economics.

"I don't think it can be far away. In fact, I was just
trying to cut off a bend of it," he said, with a little laugh.

"It isn't exactly a pleasant night for a stroll through
the bush," said Grace suggestively.

"No," replied Ingleby, who fell into the snare. "Still,
you see, they were expecting me at the bakery."

Grace was by no means pleased at this. Certain obser-
vations Esmond had once let fall with a purpose had not
been without their effect on her, and she remembered that
the girl at the bakery was, it had to be admitted, pretty.
It also appeared likely that she was what is now and then
termed forward. Grace's displeasure, which she did not,
of course, express, might, however, have been greater
had there been any delay in the man's answer.

"Then if you will show me the trail I will not keep you.
I am getting cold," she said.

Ingleby took the bridle, and he and the cayuse floun-
dered through what appeared to be a horrible maze of
fallen branches and tangled undergrowth. In fact, Grace
fancied she heard her skirt rip as they struggled in it.
Then the bush became a little clearer, and they went on
more briskly, up and down steep slopes and past dim blurs
of trees, while soil and gravel alike rang beneath the cay-
use's feet. How long this continued Grace did not exactly
know, nor had she any notion as to where they were. The
only reassuring thing was the glimpse she had of Ingleby
plodding on beside her horse's head, which was, however,
quite sufficient. Still, civility demanded something, and
at last she bade him stop.

"I'm afraid I must be taking you away from the bakery,"
she said.

224 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Ingleby laughed. "I am, of course, not going there
now."

That should have been sufficient, but Grace was not
quite contented. Compliments on her beauty seldom
pleased her, but she liked to feel the hold she had upon
those she attracted, and was not averse to having it ex-
plained to her.

"No?" she said. "Then where are you going?"

Ingleby appeared a trifle astonished, as though he con-
sidered the question quite unnecessary, which was naturally
gratifying.

"To the Gold Commissioner's residence," he said.

"With my permission?" and Grace laughed.

Ingleby did not look at her. He was apparently staring
at the forest, which loomed through the whirling haze a
faint blur of vanishing trees, and he flung the answer over
his shoulder.

"I think I would venture to go without it to-night," he
said.

This was significant, but although the snow was certainly
getting thicker and the cold struck through her like an icy
knife, Grace no longer felt any apprehension. She was not
unaccustomed to physical discomfort and peril, and there
could be, she felt, no doubt of her reaching home safely
while Ingleby plodded at the horse's head. He was young,
and by no means assertive, but there were men in the Green
Eiver valley who shared her confidence in him. Still, the
rough flounder through the brushwood was becoming irk-
some, and where the trees were smaller she could not avoid
all the drooping branches by swaying in the saddle, and at
last she bade him pull up again.

"We are a long while striking the trail," she said.

"Yes," said Ingleby, without turning towards her.

Grace leaned down and touched him. "Why haven't
we found it? I mean you to tell me."

ALISON'S SAULT 225

The man made a little gesture, for he recognized that
tone.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "We have struck it, and
didn't recognize it. In fact, we must have gone straight
across and left it behind us."

Grace sat still and looked at him. She could not see his
face ; he was no more than a blurred shadowy shape in the
haze of sliding snow. Still, she could make out that he
was standing very straight with slightly tilted head, and
she knew the intentness of gaze and look of tenacity in the
hidden face which usually accompanied that attitude. His
answer also pleased her. There was no attempt at con-
cealing unpleasant probabilities, for the man spoke frankly
as to one whom he regarded as his equal in courage and
everything except, perhaps, bodily strength. In the mean-
while, however, they were alone in the wilderness, cut off
from all hope of succour by anything but their own re-
sources in a haze of snow, with their limbs slowly stiffening
under the Arctic cold.

"Then what are we to do ?" she asked.

"Push on," said Ingleby. "The river must be close at
hand to the right of us. That is why I'm keeping to the
higher ground. I don't want to strike until we have passed
Alisons Sault."

He wrenched at the bridle; but Grace had faint mis-
givings as they floundered on again. Sault in that country
implies a fall or rapid, and the one in question was called
after a prospector who had drowned himself and a comrade
there. It swept down to the mouth of the canon in a wild
white rush, studded with great boulders that bruised and
scarred the pines the flood hurled down on them ; and what
made it more perilous in the dark was the fact that the
trail dipped to the brink of the smaller rapids at the tail
of it. Indeed, it was often necessary to splash knee-deep
through the slack of them along the shore ; and Alison had
come by his death through mistaking the big sault for one

226 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

of the smaller ones on a black night. The man who fished
him out of an eddy a week later said that Alison looked
very much as though he had been put through a threshing
mill.

It was, Grace fancied, half an hour later when they floun-
dered down a declivity, with the roar of the river growing
louder in their ears. It was with difficulty she kept in the
saddle, and she was vaguely conscious that her skirt was
rent to tatters, though she was too stiff and cold to trouble
about that now. Even in the thicker timber the snow was
almost bewildering, and it was only now and then she
could see Ingleby scrambling and floundering in front of
her. He was evidently making his course by sound, for
there was nothing that she could discern to guide him.

Then somehow they slid down a bank, and there was a
splash that told her the cayuse was in the water. Ingleby
seemed to be struggling with the beast, but she could not
make out why he did so. Nor did it seem of any moment.
She was dazed and bewildered and intolerably cold. There
was a further splashing, a plunge, and a flounder; the
water rose to her stirrup, and for a few horrible moments
she felt that the beast was going downstream with her.
It was evident by the depth that they were in the Sault.
She fancied she cried out in her terror and that Ingleby
shouted in answer, but the roar of the river drowned the
sound. In another few seconds, however, the horse appa-
rently struck rock with its hoofs again; then the water
that had lapped about her skirt seemed to fall away, and in
a frantic scrambling Ingleby dragged the pony up the bank.
The cayuse stood still, trembling, at the top of it, and In-
gleby was apparently quivering, too, for his voice shook a
little as he answered her half-coherent questions.

"Alison's Sault!" he said hoarsely. "It should have
been behind us. I never recognized it until the river swept
my feet from under me. I suppose I was dazed by the
snow."

ALISON'S SAULT 22?

Grace sat silent a moment. She knew that they had
looked death in the face, for nothing made of flesh and
blood could carry the life in it through the mad turmoil of
rock and flood in Alison's Sault. The roar of the river was
very impressive now, and the man's voice had shown that
he was shaken by some strong emotion which was not per-
sonal fear. . Then, as the crash of a great pine against a
stream-swept stone rang through the deep reverberations,
she bent down and touched his shoulder. The contact was
momentary, but she felt a little quiver run through him.

"Nobody could have recognized it on such a night. It
was not your fault," she said.

"I can't forgive myself. The cayuse got out of hand —
I couldn't hold him. He was heading out into the stream.
If that ledge hadn't been there "

He stopped with a gasp, and Grace was glad to recognize
that of the two she was the one who showed less concern.
She guessed what he was feeling, but could not restrain the
desire to make certain.

"Well," she said. "If the shelf of rock had not been
there?"

Ingleby turned and seemed to be listening to the river.
Perhaps he did it unconsciousl}r, but the hoarse roar of
the flood among the boulders was sufficient answer.

"You were not cumbered with a horse that had lost its
head. There is a little slack close to the bank," she said.

The man turned and seemed by his attitude to be gazing
at her in astonishment.

"You can't suppose I should have scrambled out alone?"
he said.

There was a suggestion of anger in his voice which Grace
recognized as wholly genuine. She had met and formed
her own opinion of the protestations of not a few young
men in her time, and it was evident to her that, while
Ingleby's attitude became him, he did not recognize the
fact.

228 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"You felt yourself responsible then?" she suggested.

"No," said the man slowly. "I certainly didn't; though
it's clear that I was. I don't think I felt anything except
that — you — were in the rapid."

This was also evidently perfectly sincere, but he seemed
to pull himself up abruptly, and laughed in a fashion that
suggested embarrassment.

"You will not remember that little speech. It's not
the kind of thing one is pleased with afterwards; but, in
the circumstances, it was, perhaps, excusable," he said.

He gave her no opportunity for answering, but struck
the cayuse, and they went on again. Still, Grace had
noticed the tremor in his voice, and knew that he had
meant exactly what he said. Nor was she displeased at it.

Then the thoughts and fancies which the moment of
peril had galvanized into activity grew blurred again, and
she was only sensible of the physical pain and weariness
and an intolerable cold, as the man and beast stumbled
on. Twice again they dipped to the river, which, however,
scarcely rose to his knee, and after that there was only a
sliding past of snow-dimmed trees, while by a grim effort
she kept herself in the saddle. Then at last a light blinked
in front of her through the filmy haze, the cayuse stopped,
and Ingleby, it seemed, lifted her down. At least, she felt
his arm about her, and then found herself standing beside
him before the commissioner's dwelling without any very
clear notion of how she came there. It was only afterwards
she remembered, with tingling cheeks, how she had seen a
miner walk away with a one-hundred-and-forty-pound bag
of flour. Then they went into a lighted room together, and
stood still, gasping, a moment, with a distressful dizziness
creeping over both of them. Ingleby apparently roused
himself with an effort, and threw the door open.

"Keep away from the stove," he said, a trifle faintly.
"There's a chair yonder."

He stood in the entrance, white with snow, looking at

ALISON'S SAULT 229

her. The blood was in her head now, and a most un-
pleasant tingling ran through her half-frozen limbs, but
Ingleby was a trifle grey in face.

"You can shut the door in another minute or two. I
may come back to-morrow to make sure you are none the
worse?" he asked.

Grace looked at him with a smile. "You can't go away
now."

Ingleby turned and glanced at the whirling haze that
swept athwart the light in the veranda.

"I'm afraid I must," he said. "It would be difficult
to get off the trail as far as the bakery, and there is ap-
parently nothing I can do for you here. Somebody lighted
the fire?"

"One of the police troopers," said Grace. "That doesn't
matter. It is snowing harder than ever. You can't go
away."

She had brushed aside the dictates of conventionality,
and the blood was in her face and a curious sparkle in her
eyes. They had been close to death together a little while
ago, and it was a long way to the bakery. Still, it was
not this fact alone that impelled her to bid him stay.

"I'm afraid I must," he said slowly, as with an effort.
"You see, there is something I have to talk over with
Leger. He expects me. Besides, it would be advisable to
send back any of the boys who may be there to see what has
become of the major."

Then he turned abruptly, and Grace, who had scarcely
remembered the major, laughed curiously when he went
out of the door. She knew now, at least, exactly what she
felt for Ingleby, and had he stayed and declared boldly
what his wishes were, it is probable that Coulthurst would
have been astonished when he came home. Ingleby, how-
ever, had gone away, and the girl was left standing,
flushed in face, with the melting snow dripping from her,

230 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

beside the stove, which she remembered with some little
satisfaction was precisely what he had told her not to do.
Then with a little disdainful gesture she swept into the
adjoining room.

XXIII

INGLEBY LOSES HIS HEAD

A KEEN frost had followed the snow, hut there was
warmth and a brightness in the little inner room of
the Gold Commissioner's house. Its log walls and double
casements kept out the stinging cold, the stove snapped
and crackled, and a big lamp diffused a cheerful light.
Ingleby, who had just come in, sat with his back to the
logs, with Coulthurst and Grace opposite him. Grace was
in the shadow, but the light shone full upon the major's
weather-darkened face.

"Grace," he said, "is, as you can see, none the worse,
but it was a fortunate thing you turned up when you did.
Very much obliged to you for taking such good care of
her."

It was evident to Ingleby that Coulthurst did not know
what had nearly happened at Alison's Sault. He had,
in fact, already had reasons for surmising that Miss Coul-
thurst did not think it advisable to tell her father every-
thing.

"I'm not sure it wouldn't have been better if I had not
met Miss Coulthurst, sir," he said. "In that case she
would probably have gone back, and waited with you until
daylight, which would have saved you both a good deal of
anxiety. Of course, when we made up our minds to push
on, I had no idea the snow would be so bad."

"It's questionable whether she could have found the
way. I could see nothing whatever, and scarcely fancy

231

232 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

I would have got here if two of the older prospectors
hadn't come with me. In fact, I scarcely remember a
worse night anywhere, and one result of it is an unpleasant
twinge in the shoulder. I never used to get anything of
that kind. I suppose I'm getting old."

It occurred to Ingleby that Coulthurst was certainly
looking older than he had done in England. There was
a good deal of grey in his hair, his cheeks were hollower,
and there were deepening lines about his eyes. Ingleby
felt sorry for the man, who had served his nation for so
small a reward, that after a life of hardship he must bear
the burden still, and yet the fact was in one respect en-
couraging. Since Coulthurst's means were scanty, there
was less probability of his objecting too strenuously to the
successful miner who aspired to his daughter's hand ; and,
though not so rich as the one Ingleby had thrown away,
Tomlinson's claim was yielding well. He, however, said
nothing, and Coulthurst went on again.

"A devil of a night! It would be hard on any one in
the ranges. I wonder where Tomlinson could have gone?"

"One would naturally expect him to head for the settle-
ments," said Ingleby indifferently.

"He left no trail behind him if he did. At least, Es-
mond's troopers couldn't find any. There was, however, a
good deal it is difficult to understand about the affair. One
point that would strike anybody is how Tomlinson got
away from here without being seen by Esmond, who turned
up almost as he must have gone off the veranda."

"It really is a trifle hard to understand, sir."

They looked at each other steadily for a moment or two,
and then Ingleby could have fancied that there was a
twinkle in Coulthurst's eyes.

"Perhaps it was as well he got away after all," he said.
"Appearances were against him, and it might have gone
hard with him; but I can't quite bring myself to believe
that Tomlinson did the thing."

INGLEBY LOSES HIS HEAD 23S

Then Grace, who laughed softly, broke in. "Of course,"
she said, "you tried very hard."

A moment later there was a tramp of feet outside, and
the major, who passed into the outer room, came back in
a minute or two. He smiled at Ingleby somewhat drily.

"It isn't news of Tomlinson," he said. "Noel has
brought the Frenchman over. They've been burrowing
into each other's claims, and if I can't straighten the thing
out they'll probably settle their differences in their own
way with the shovel. I shall probably be half an hour over
it, but don't go."

He went out, and left Ingleby with Grace. She looked
none the worse for the journey she had made the previous
night, and was dressed with unusual simplicity. Ingleby
did not know what the fabric was, or whether the colour
was blue or grey, nor did it occur to him that its severe
simplicity was the result of skill; but he noticed that it
enhanced the girl's beauty and added a suggestion of state-
liness to her figure, of which Miss Coulthurst was probably
quite aware. She looked up at him with a little smile
when a murmur of excited voices rose from the adjoining
room.

"They will, of course, both be disgusted with his de-
cision, whatever it is," she said. "A Gold Commissioner
has really a good deal to put up with."

"Major Coulthurst's position is naturally a responsible
one," said Ingleby.

Grace laughed. "With a very disproportionate emolu-
ment— which is a point one has to consider after all. I'm
not sure it wouldn't have been better if he had been a pros-
pector."

Ingleby's pulse throbbed a trifle faster. He had no
great knowledge of the gentler sex ; but he was not a fool,
and it seemed to him that the girl had not spoken altogether
without a purpose.

"I don't think you really believe that," he said.

234 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Perhaps I don't," and Grace appeared to reflect. "At
least, I suppose I shouldn't have done so once, but, of
course, a prospector who has done sufficiently well for him-
self can take any place that pleases him in Canada."

"Still, you don't think that right."

"It would naturally depend a good deal upon the pros-
pector."

Ingleby sat still, almost too still, in fact, for a moment
or two; but he could not hide the little gleam in his eyes.
He had, it is true, democratic views, that is, so far as
everybody but Grace Coulthurst was concerned ; but he was
quite willing to admit that she was a being of a very differ-
ent and much higher order than his own. That added to
the attraction she had for him; and now she had sug-
gested that they were, after all, more or less on the same
level. It was almost disconcerting. He did not know
what to make of it; but while he pondered over it she
flashed a quick glance at him.

"I wonder if you know how Tomlinson got away?" she
asked.

It was apparently an astonishingly abrupt change of sub-
ject, but when Ingleby, who had grown wiser in the mean-
while, afterwards recalled that night, he was less sure that
it might not have been, after all, part of an instinctive
continuity of policy. He had discovered by then that even
very charming and ingenuous women not infrequently have
a policy.

"I don't mind admitting that I do — to you," he said.

Grace was pleased and showed it. It is gratifying to
feel that anybody has complete confidence in one, and the
possession of a common secret of some importance is not
infrequently a bond between the two who share it. Ingleby
realized this and felt with a curious gratification that the
girl recognized it as clearly as he did. Still, she had said
nothing that could lead him to believe so.

"Then you no doubt know where he went?" she asked.

INGLEBY LOSES HIS HEAD 235

"I naturally know that, too."

Grace smiled. "That means you helped him to get away.
Are you wise in admitting that you were an accessory?
Captain Esmond is a friend of ours."

Ingleby made her a little whimsical inclination, though
there was a look in his eyes which was not quite in keeping
with it.

"I am," he said, "quite safe in your hands."

It was a fortunate answer, and worth the more because
he was not usually a very tactful person, as the girl was
aware. She was afflicted by a craving for influence, and
it was not the adulation of men she wanted, but an insight
into their thoughts and purposes, and the privilege of
controlling them. Thus Ingleby, who did not know it,
could not have done more wisely than he did in admitting
that he had an unquestioning confidence in her. He was,
as she had discovered some time ago, in spite of his sim-
plicity, a man capable of bold conceptions and resolute
execution, the type of man, in fact, that usually came to
the front in Western Canada. She had the intelligence
to realize and weigh all this, and yet there was a strain of
passion in her which he had awakened.

"I almost think you are," she said. "How is the new
claim progressing?"

"Seasonably well. In fact, although Sewell is appar-
ently getting rich on the one I threw away, I can't com-
plain. What he makes will, at least, be spent on what
he thinks is doing good, while I want mine for my own sel-
fish purposes."

"They are necessarily selfish?"

Ingleby laughed, though the little glow crept into his
eyes again. "Well," he said, "I suppose so. You see, a
third-share in Tomlinson's claim is not of itself of much
value to me. It only provides the money to make a start
with."

236 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Grace nodded comprehendingly. He was crude in his
mode of expression, but she understood him.

"That implies a going on?" she asked.

"It does," and Ingleby laughed. "There is room, I
think, in this Province for men who will take big risks,
and boldly stake what they have on the advancement of
its prosperity. I'm not sure there is any reason I shouldn't
be one of them."

"And gather in the money? More than you are entitled
to? Haven't you been changing your opinions?"

Ingleby made a little whimsical gesture, which alone
sufficed to show that he had, as the girl expressed it to
herself, expanded.

"I suppose I have — that is, I have modified them. One
has to now and then," he said. "Still, you see, the men
I mean don't grind money out of others. They create
it. They take hold of the wilderness, bridge the rivers,
drive the roads through it, and the ranches and the or-
chards follow. Every man who makes a new home in the
waste owes a little to them."

"Still, all that is not done easily. One must have the
faith — and, as you suggest, the money with which to make
the start. Even then the ladder is hard to climb."

Ingleby involuntarily glanced down at his hands, and
the girl noticed the scars on them, which, however, did not
repel her. She also noticed the spareness of his frame, the
curious transparency of his darkened skin, and the bright-
ness of his eyes, all significant of an intensity of bodily
effort. The man had been purged of grossness, moral and
physical, by toil in icy water and scorching sun, and the
light that shone out through his eyes was the brighter for
the hardships he had undergone. He had gained more than
vigour while he swung the shovel and gripped -the drill
with hands that bled from the blundering hammer stroke,
after other men's work was done. It is possible that he
had also gained more than tenacity of will.

INGLEBY LOSES HIS HEAD 237

"Still," he said slowly, "I think I shall manage it."

Grace felt that this was likely. She realized the purpose
which animated him, and there suddenly came upon her a
desire that he should tell it to her. She knew that he would
do so when he felt the time was ripe; but she wished to
hear it now, or, at least, to see how far his reticence would
carry him. She leaned forward a little and looked him
steadily in the eyes.

"It will be a struggle," she said. "Is it worth while?"

Ingleby stirred uneasily beneath her gaze, for it seemed
to him that she had brushed aside every distinction there
might be between them. He did not know how she had
conveyed this impression, but he felt it. She was also
very close to him. As she moved, the hem of her skirt
had touched him, and he felt the blood tingle in his veins.

"It would be worth dying for," he said.

Grace laughed in a curious fashion. "The money, and
the envy of less fortunate men?"

Ingleby stood up suddenly, though he scarcely knew
why he did so, or how it came about that he yielded with
scarcely a struggle now to the impulse that swept him
away. It is, however, possible that Grace Coulthurst, who
had only looked at him, understood the reason.

" Success would be worth nothing without another thing,"
he said. "Like what I have already, the money wouldn't
be mine, you see. I am not poor now — but I should never
have held on here by any strength of purpose that was in
me alone. I borrowed it from another person."

He stopped abruptly, half-afraid, wondering what had
happened to him that the truth should be wrung from him
in this fashion. Then he saw the clear rose colour creep
into the girl's cheeks and the sudden softening of her
eyes, and his courage came back to him. He had ventured
too far to be silent now.

"Yes," he said, "there is somebody I' owe everything
to — and it's you."

238 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Grace no longer looked at him, but sat still now with
hands clasped on her knees, and Ingleby felt the silence
becoming intolerable. There was still a murmur of voices
in the adjoining room, and he could hear the wind outside
moaning among the pines.

"I suppose I have offended past forgiveness. I did not
mean to tell you this to-night," he said.

Grace looked up for a moment. "Oh," she said softly,
"I think I knew — and you see I am not blaming you."

Ingleby quivered visibly, and his face grew hot; but
while the desire to kneel beside her and seize the clasped
hands was almost irresistible, he stood still, looking gravely
down upon her, which was, perhaps, not wise of him.

"You knew?" he said.

"Is that so difficult to understand, after what happened
at Alison's Sault?"

Ingleby bent down and took one of her hands, but he
did it very gently, though the signs of the fierce restraint
he laid upon himself were in his face.

"I should never have told you, Grace — I lost my head,"
he said. "Still, the one hope that has led me so far, and
will, I think, lead me farther, has been that I might —
one day when the time was ripe — induce you to listen, and
not send me away. Now it must be sufficient that you
are not angry. I can take no promise from you."

"Is it worth so little?" Grace said softly.

Ingleby's grasp tightened on her hand until it grew al-
most painful. "It would," he said, "be worth everything
to me, but I dare not take it now. What I am, you know —
but the claim is yielding well — and I only want a little
time. Until I can ask Major Coulthurst for you boldly
you must be free."

Grace looked up at him. "And you?"

"I," said Ingleby with a little grave smile, "was your
very willing bondsman ever so long ago."

{The hot flush had faded from his face, and the girl

INGLEBY LOSES HIS HEAD 239

swept her skirt aside, and made room for him beside her.
There was, she knew, no fear of his again breaking through
the restraint he had laid upon himself. She was, however,
not altogether pleased at this, for while it was evident that
his attitude was warranted, the self-command which now
characterized it was not quite what she had expected. It
scarcely appeared natural under the circumstances.

"Well," she said, "we will let it be so, and I have some-
thing to tell you. I am going to Vancouver for the winter.
In fact, I should have left already but for the snow."

Ingleby started visibly. "You are going away?"

"Yes," said Grace, with a trace of dryness in her smile;
"is that very dreadful? You will go away in due time,
too. While you struggle for what you think will buy my
favour, i" must wait patiently."

"I suppose I have deserved it," and Ingleby winced.
"Still, it will be horribly hard to let you go. It is a good
deal to know that you are here even when I may not see
you."

Grace smiled. "Well," she said, "if that would afford
you any great satisfaction, is there any reason why you
should not go to Vancouver too? Most of the placer
miners do."

Ingleby's glance at her suggested that the notion had not
occurred to him. Eegular work at the mine would be out
of the question until the spring came round again, and
already several of the men were talking of leaving the
valley. He could also readily afford to spend a few months
in Vancouver now. Still, there was one insuperable ob-
stacle.

"If I had only kept my claim!" he said. "It is hor-
ribly unfortunate I let it go."

"How does that affect the question?"

"I made a compact with Tomlinson to hold his claim for
him."

Once more the colour crept into Grace's face. "You do

240 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

not mean to let that stop you when there are men you
could hire to do what the law requires?"

"You don't seem to understand," and there was a trace
of astonishment in Ingleby's eyes. " One could not depend
absolutely upon them, and I made a bargain with Tomlin-
son. That claim is worth everything to him and his
mother — I think it is — back in Oregon."

The flush grew plainer in Grace's cheek. She was a trifle
imperious, and now her will had clashed with one that was
as resolute as it. She was, however, sensible that she had
blundered.

"Those men could do almost as much as you could,
which would, after all, be very little just now," she said.
"I never meant that you should risk the claim falling in."

"They might fall sick, or get hurt,"

"And that might happen to you."

"I should, at least, have kept my word to Tomlinson,"
said Ingleby gravely.

Grace was too proud to persist. He was right, of course,
but the fact that he would sooner part from her than incur
the slightest risk of breaking faith with Tomlinson had
nevertheless its sting. That, however, she would not show.

"Then I suppose I must not complain," she said. "You
evidently have no intention of doing so."

Ingleby made a little gesture. "It will be hard — but it
can't be helped," he replied. " As you said, I must go away
too one day. Still, I think that I, at least, will feel by and
by that it was all worth while."

Then there was a tramp of feet in the adjoining room,
and he raised the hand he held and just touched it with
his lips. It was not what Grace would have expected from
him, but she noticed that he did not do it awkwardly.

"That is all I ask until I have won my spurs," he said.
"Just now I am only the squire of low degree."

Grace said nothing, for the door opened and the major
came in.

> XXIV

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

IT was a bitterly cold night, and Hetty Leger sat close
to the fire which crackled on the big hearth in the
bakery shanty. It flung an uncertain radiance and pun-
gent aromatic odours about the little room, but there was
no other light. Kerosene is unpleasantly apt to impart its
characteristic flavour to provisions when jolted for leagues
in company with them on the same pack-saddle, and the
bringing of stores of any kind into the Green Eiver country
was then a serious undertaking. Tom Leger sat by the
little table, and Sewell lay upon a kind of ottoman in-
geniously extemporized out of spruce-twigs and provision
bags.

It was significant that they were assembled in what had
been Hetty's private apartment, for the bakery had grown,
and there were two other rooms attached to it now. Leger
had also struck gold a little while ago, and there was no
longer any necessity for Hetty to continue baking, though
she did so. She said she had grown used to it, and would
sooner have something to do; but it had seemed to Leger
that while everything was done with her customary neat-
ness and system there was a change in her, and he fancied
she did her work more to keep herself occupied than be-
cause she took pleasure in it. It had not been so once. In
fact, the change had only become perceptible after Ingleby
left the bakery; but Leger was wise in some respects and
made no sign that he noticed this.

241

242 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

On that particular evening Hetty had not displayed her
nsual tranquillity of temper, and she turned to her brother
with a little shiver.

"Can't you put on some more wood? It's disgustingly
cold," she said. "If I'd known they had weather like this
here I'd have stayed in Vancouver."

Leger remembered that she had once professed herself
perfectly contented with the Green River country, but he v
did not think it advisable to mention the fact. He rose
and flung an armful of wood upon the fire, and then stood
still smiling.

"You know you can go back there and stay through the
winter, if you would like to," he said.

"That's nonsense," said Hetty. "How could I go my-
self? You and your friends haven't made everybody nice
to everybody yet. I'm not going, anyway, and if you
worry me I'll be cross."

She looked up sharply and saw that Sewell's face was
unnaturally grave.

"Of course," she said, "you were grinning at Tom a
moment ago. Still, I can't help it if I am a very little
cross just now. It's the cold — and Tom spoiled the last
batch of bread. It is cold, isn't it? If it hadn't been, we
shouldn't have seen you."

"I don't know why you should seem so sure of that,"
said Sewell.

Hetty looked at him sharply. "Well," she said, "I am.
You would have gone on to the major's. You know you
would. What do you go there so often for?"

Sewell had occasionally found Hetty's questions discon-
certing, but he saw that she expected an answer.

"I am rather fond of chess," he said.

Hetty smiled incredulously. "That's rubbish!"

"The major, at least, likes a game, and after pulling him
back into this wicked world from the edge of a gully one
naturally feel that he owes him a little."

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 243

"You didn't pull him. It was Walter. Hadn't you
better try again ?"

Sewell appeared a trifle embarrassed, for he saw that
Leger was becoming interested.

"It is, to some extent, my business to understand the
habits of the ruling classes," he said reflectively. "You
see, it's almost necessary. Unless I know a little about
them, how can I persuade anybody how far they are be-
neath us, as I'm expected to do?"

Hetty laughed. "Well," she said, "you haven't tried
to do anything of that kind for a long while now. Anyway,
it seems to me that you knew a good deal about them before
you ever saw Major Coulthurst. Of course, it's not my
business, but if I were the major I'd make you tell me
exactly what you were going there for."

Sewell apparently did not relish this, though he laughed.
It happens occasionally that those most concerned in what
is going on are the last to notice it, and it had not occurred
to Coulthurst or Ingleby that Sewell spent his evenings at
the Gold Commissioners dwelling frequently. He had,
however, not often met Ingleby there, and it was signifi-
cant that neither of them ever mentioned Grace Coulthurst
to the other. In any case, Sewell did not answer, and while
they sat silent there was a tramp of feet outside and the
corporal came in. He was a taciturn and somewhat un-
sociable man, but he smiled as he looked at Hetty and sat
down where the rude chimney Tomlinson had built was
between him and the one small window.

"It's a bitter night, and there's 'most four foot of snow
on the range. I figured I'd look in to tell you it will be
two or three days yet before you get the flour the folks at
the settlements are sending up," he said. "A trooper has
just come in with the mail, and he left the freighter and his
beasts held up by the snow."

He stopped a moment, and looked at Leger somewhat
curiously. "Somebody has just gone away?"

244 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"No," said Leger. "We have had nobody here. "We
are expecting Ingleby, but he hasn't turned up yet."

"Quite sure he's not outside there?"

"It's scarcely likely. It's a little too cold for anybody
to stay outside when he needn't. Ingleby would certainly
come in."

"Well," said the corporal, "I guess I didn't see any-
bod}% after all. It was quite dark, anyway, in among the
trees. Winter's shutting down on us 'most a month before
it should have done. It's kind of fortunate we sent the
horses out when we did. I don't know what they wanted
to bring them for. Nobody has any use for horses in this
country."

It was evident that the worthy corporal was bent on
getting away from what he felt to be an awkward topic, and
Hetty laughed outright at his quite unnecessary delicacy.

"No," she said, "you know you saw somebody, and
fancied it was one of the boys waiting to see me."

The corporal appeared embarrassed, but was wise enough
not to involve himself further. "Well," he said, "when I
was coming along the trail I saw a man slip in behind a
cedar. That kind of struck me as not the usual thing, and I
went round the other way to meet him. It was quite a
big tree, and when I got around he wasn't there. You keep
the dust you get for the bread in the shanty, Leger?"

"Yes," said Leger. "Most of the boys who come here
know where it is. I really don't think there is any reason
why they shouldn't, either."

"No," said the corporal reflectively, "I guess there isn't.
I'll say that for them. Still, I did see somebody."

He contrived to glance round at the faces of the rest,
unnoticed by any of them except Hetty, and was satisfied
that they knew no more than he did. The corporal had
been a long while a policeman, and had quick perceptions.
He decided to look into the matter later.

"Well," he said, "I guess it's not worth worrying over."

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 245

He drew a little closer to the fire, and nobody said any-
thing for a minute or two, though Hetty glanced towards
the little window. The room was dim except when a blaze
sprang up, and turning suddenly she stirred the fire, and
then, for no very apparent reason, set herself to liken.
The bush outside was very still, and she could hear the
frost-dried snow fall softly from a branch. Then there was
a sharp snapping of resinous wood in the fire, and it was
not until that died away she heard a sound again. It was
very faint, and suggested a soft crunching down of powdery
snow. Nobody else seemed to hear it, not even the cor-
poral, who was apparently examining a rent in, his tunic
just then, and she had almost persuaded herself that she
had fancied it when she glanced towards the window again.
A flickering blaze was roaring up the chimney now.

Then a little shiver ran through her, and closing her
hands tight she stared at the glass in horror. A face was
pressed against it, a drawn, grey face that seemed awry
with pain. There was, however, something that reminded
her of somebody in it, and she was about to cry out when
she felt a hand laid restrainingly on her arm. Glancing
over her shoulder, she saw that her brother was also gazing
at the window, and then she knew suddenly to whom the
face belonged. It had gone when she looked round again,
and it was evident that neither Sewell nor the corporal had
seen it. Unfortunately, it appeared very unlikely that the
man outside could have seen the latter, and she knew that
something must be done, or in another moment or two
Prospector Tomlinson would walk into the arms of the
policeman. Leger appeared incapable of suggesting any-
thing and was gazing at her with apprehension in his eyes.

It was a singularly unpleasant moment. Hetty was
aware that she and her brother owed Tomlinson a good
deal, and, in any case, it would be particularly distasteful
to see him arrested. She was also by no means certain that
her brother and Sewell would permit it, and the corporal

246 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

was a heavily-built man. It very seldom happens that a
Northwest policeman lets a prisoner go; and Hetty was
quite aware that the result of a struggle might be disas-
trous to everybody. She realized this in a flash, and then
there was a sound of shuffling feet outside in the snow.
They were approaching the doorway, and she knew it
would be flung open in another moment or two. Then the
inspiration came suddenly.

"There's somebody outside," she said, and laughed as
she noticed the bewildered consternation in her brother's
eyes. "If it's Ingleby I don't think I'll let him in."

Her voice was almost as steady as usual, and apparently
Leger alone noticed the suggestion of strain in it, while
next moment she crossed the room and threw the door open.
It was narrow, however, and she stood carefully in the
middle of it.

"You're not coming in, Walter, until you cut some
wood," she said. "You never touched the axe the last time
you came."

Hetty's nerve almost failed her during the next few
moments, and she felt the throbbing of her heart while the
man the others could not see blinked at her stupidly. She
dare venture no plainer warning, and he was apparently
dazed with cold and weariness.

"I'm not going to stand here. It's too cold," she said.
" If you're too lazy to do what I tell you, I'll ask the cor-
poral."

Then she banged the door to, and went back to her seat
with a little laugh that sounded slightly hollow to her
brother, at least.

"If there's one thing Walter doesn't like it's chopping
wood — and that's why I wouldn't let him off," she said.
"He hasn't troubled to come round and see me for a week.
I'm vexed with him."

Now, the corporal was, of course, aware that throughout
most of Western Canada visitors to a homestead not in-

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 247

frequently lighten their hostess's labour by washing the
dishes or carrying wood. In the case of the miners, who
were pleased to spend an hour at the bakery, chopping
wood for the oven was the most obvious thing, though those
specially favoured were now and then permitted to weigh
out flour or knead the bread. There was thus nothing
astonishing in what Hetty had apparently said to Ingleby,
nor did Sewell, who provoked the corporal into an attempt
to prove that the troopers' carbine was a more efficient
weapon than the miners' Marlin rifle, appear to notice
anything unusual, and only Leger saw that Hetty's colour
was fainter than it had been and that she was quivering a
little.

In the meanwhile there was a tramp of feet outside,
which grew less distinct, until the ringing chunk of the
axe replaced it, and Leger wondered how he could make
Sewell understand that it was desirable to cut the discus-
sion short. He could think of no means of doing it and
glanced at Hetty anxiously, for how long the corporal
meant to stay was becoming a somewhat momentous ques-
tion. A man accustomed to the axe can split a good deal
of wood in ten minutes, even when he works by moonlight ;
and it was evident that the one outside could not continue
his chopping indefinitely without the corporal's wondering
what was keeping him.

Ten minutes passed, and the regular thud of the axe
rang through the forest outside, while the corporal, who
was a persistent man, still diseussed extractors and maga-
zine springs. Leger felt the tension becoming intolerable.
Then Hetty contrived to catch Sewell's attention, and,
looking at him steadily, set her lips tight. The corporal
had, as it happened, turned from the girl; but she saw a
gleam of comprehension in Sewell's eyes.

"Well," he said reflectively, "I suppose you are right.
I like the easier pull-off of the American rifles. One is less
apt to shake the sights off the mark, but no doubt with

248 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

men accustomed to the handling of rifled weapons, as the
police troopers are, the little extra pull required is no great
matter."

The corporal was evidently gratified. "I've shown quite
a few men they were wrong on that point, and now I guess
I must be getting on. You'll excuse me, Miss Leger?"

He put on his fur-coat and opened the door, but Hetty's
heart throbbed again when he stopped a moment As it
happened, the fire was flashing brilliantly, and the corporal
appeared to be looking down at the footprints by the
threshold.

"I've seen Ingleby twice since the snow came, and he
was wearing gum-boots," he said. "The man who was
outside here had played-out leather ones on."

"Walter has an old pair he wore until lately," said Leger.
"There's a good deal of sharp grit in the Tomlinson mine,
and he'd probably come along in the boots he went down
in."

This appeared reasonable, and the corporal made a little
gesture as though to show that he concurred in it, and then,
stepping forward, disappeared into the night. Sewell rose
and shut the door, and then glanced at Hetty, who stood
quivering a little in the middle of the room.

"I fancy one of you has something to tell me," he said.

Hetty gasped. "Oh," she said, "I thought he meant to
stay until morning! It was getting awful, Tom."

Then she looked at Sewell. "Don't you know?" she
said. "It's Tomlinson."

"Now," said Sewell, whose astonishment was evident,
"I think I understand. There can scarcely be many girls
capable of doing what you have done."

Hetty made a little sign of impatience. "Yes, there are
— lots of them. Of course, you think all women are silly — ■
you're only a man. Besides, Tom pinched me. But why
are you stopping here and talking? Go and bring him."

Both Leger and Sewell went, and Tomlinson came back

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 249

with them. He was haggard and ragged, and his thin jean
garments were hard with the frozen snow-dust. He
dropped into the nearest chair and blinked at them.

"Yes," he said, "I'm here and 'most starving. Get me
something to eat, and I'll try to tell you."

They gave him what they had, and he ate ravenously,
while Hetty's eyes softened as she watched him.

"You have had a hard time?" she said.

"Yes," answered the man slowly, "I guess I had. I got
stuck up in the range. Couldn't make anything of the
gorge in the loose snow. Tried to crawl up over the ice
track and dropped through. Burst the pack-straps getting
out, and don't know where most of the grub and one
blanket went to. It was the bigger packet. That was why
I had to come back. I don't quite know how I made the
valley."

"When did you lose the grub?" asked Sewell.

Tomlinson shook his head. "I don't quite know," he
said. "I guess it must have been 'most three weeks ago."

Leger looked at Sewell, for that was quite sufficient to
give point to the bald narrative.

"What was in the smaller package would scarcely keep
a man in health a week," he said. "I'm not going to keep
you talking, Tomlinson, but — although it's fortunate you
did so — why did you stop outside instead of coming in?"

"I saw a man," said Tomlinson. "I figured it wouldn't
be wise to show myself until I was sure of him. Then when
I crawled up to the shanty I didn't seem to remember any-
thing. I only wanted to get in."

He stopped, and looked at Leger. "I can't push on to-
night— I'm 'most used-up, but I'm not going to stay here
and make trouble for you. I'll light out again to-morrow. "

"You are going to lie down and sleep now," said Hetty
severely. "We'll decide what is the wisest thing to do
to-morrow, but you shan't leave the shanty for a day or

250 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

two, anyway. No, I'm not going to listen to anything.
He's to sleep in the store, Tom."

Tomlinson appeared desirous of protesting, but Leger
laid a hand on his shoulder and led him. into an outbuilt
room.

XXV

TOMLINSON" GETS AWAY

HP HE early Canadian supper had been cleared away, and
Sewell was sitting with Grace Coulthurst opposite
him by the little stove in the inner room of the Gold Com-
missioner's dwelling, as he had done somewhat frequently
of late. The major was apparently occupied with his
business in the adjoining room, for they could hear a
rustle of papers, and now and then the shutting of a book,
through the door, which stood partly open. He closed one
a trifle noisily, and the next moment his voice reached
them.

"This thing has kept me longer than I expected, but
I must get it finished before I stop. Esmond's sending
a trooper off first thing to-morrow," he said. "Still, I
shall not be much longer, and then we'll get out the chess."

Coulthurst had spoken loudly, and as Sewell and Grace
did not raise their voices it appeared probable that he
could not hear what they were saying. Sewell smiled as
he glanced at the girl.

"I am not particularly impatient, or sorry for Major
Coulthurst, though one could fancy that his dislike of
official correspondence is quite as strong as his fondness
for chess. He knows exactly what he has to do, and does
it without having to trouble about the results, which in
his ease concern the Crown. That naturally simplifies one's
outlook."

"The major," said Grace reflectively, "has arrived at
251

252 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

an age when one does not expect too much, and is content
with the obvious, which is certainly an advantage."

"And we, being younger, are different in that respect?"

Grace was a trifle disconcerted, which occasionally hap-
pened when Sewell talked to her, though she looked at
him with a little smile in her eyes. It was, at least, not
very clear to her why she found it pleasant to discuss such
questions with him in a confidential voice when she had,
to all intents and purposes, plighted herself to Ingleby.
Sewell was always deferential, but there was something in
his attitude which suggested personal admiration for her,
though she was not quite sure that the vague word "liking"
was not a little nearer the mark. How far that liking
went she did not know, but while she had no intention of
allowing it in any way to prejudice her regard for Ingleby,
Sewell was, she knew, of subtler and more complex nature,
and the craving for influence was strong in her. She
knew what, under any given circumstances, Ingleby would
probably do, and though this was satisfactory in one re-
spect it had its disadvantages. She had long been troubled
with a fondness for probing into masculine thoughts and
emotions, and it pleased her to find an opportunity for
directing them, which was not often afforded her in In-
gleby's case. His programme was usually cut and dried,
and it was, as a rule, an almost exasperatingly simple one.

"I suppose we are," she said. "When I know what
is expected, of me, I usually want to do something else."

Now Sewell was not aware how matters stood between
her and his comrade, but he might have guessed what she
was thinking, for his next remark was curiously apposite.

"I'm not sure that the obvious people are not the most
fortunate," he said, with a little laugh. "They know
exactly what they want, which not infrequently means
that what they have to do to get it is equally plain. It
must necessarily save them a good many perplexities.

TOMLINSON GETS AWAY 253

Now take the case of my very obvious comrade,
Ingleby."

"Well?"

"Ingleby wants to make a fortune placer mining."

"Which is, from your point of view, a most reprehensible
thing!"

Sewell laughed. "That is not quite the point. Per-
haps he means to do good with it, and it ought to be quite
plain that Ingleby has no real sympathy with Communist
notions. In any case, he sets about it in the simplest
fashion by working most of every day and often half the
night as well. The result is that he has acquired what is
apparentty'a competence and is more or less contented with
everything. Any one can see it in the way he looks at you
lately."

Grace smiled, for it was evident that there were directions
in which SewelTs penetration was defective.

"The fortune will probably come later," she said. "And
then "

"Yes," said Sewell, with a little gesture of comprehen-
sion. "Since he has made his mind up, he will, I fancy,
manage that, too. Ingleby is that kind of person. Then,
if he does not do so sooner, he will naturally marry Hetty
Leger."

Grace turned to him sharply and then directed his at-
tention to the fact that the door at the bottom of the stove
admitted rather too much draught. He was a moment or
two adjusting it, and when he looked up again she was
smiling indifferently.

"You are sure of that?" she said.

"I think so. Ingleby invariably does the obvious thing,
and she is eminently suited to him. I'm not sure he recog-
nizes it yet; but it will certainly become evident, and then
he will save himself and everybody trouble by marrying
her off-hand."

Grace sat silent for almost a minute. It was perfectly

254 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

clear that Sewell did not know what his comrade's as-
pirations were, even as Ingleby did not know how far her
acquaintance with Sewell went. She was not altogether
displeased that it should be so, though she felt that it
would, after all, make no great change in their relations to
each other had they been aware. She did not desire Sewell
as a lover, though it was pleasant to feel that he valued her
approbation and that she had his confidence.

"There are, of course, advantages in doing the obvious
thing," she said, with a little laugh. "I suppose we are
really different from Ingleby in that respect?"

Sewell looked at her reflectively. "I think you are.
One could almost fancy you wanted so many things that
you couldn't quite decide which was the most important
and give up the rest. The difficulty is that we can't very
often have them all, you see."

It seemed to Grace that there was some truth in this.
"You," she said, "speak feelingly — as though it were from
sympathy."

"Well," said Sewell, with a curious little smile, "perhaps
I do. In fact, I'm not sure I'm not diagnosing my own
case. A little while ago I had a purpose and believed in it,
though the belief naturally cost me a good deal."

"The creation of a new Utopia out of the wreck of the
present social fabric ?" asked Grace, a trifle maliciously.

"Something of the kind, though I did not expect to
do it all myself. While I was sure the thing was feasible,
the fact that I was, or so I felt, taking a little share in
bringing it about was sufficient for me. Now, however,
I am not quite so sure on any point as I used to be, which
lis why. I often envy Ingleby."

Grace felt a little thrill of satisfaction. He had, of
course, spoken vaguely ; but she wondered how far she was
responsible for the change in the opinions which he had
held until a little while ago. She knew that he had borne a
good deal because of them, for Ingleby had told her so.

TOMLINSON GETS AWAY 255

"Then there may be a little good in a few of out insti-
tutions as they stand?" she said.

"Of course !" answered Sewell, who smiled again. "Most
of them are, however, capable of improvement. I am
quite as sure of that as ever. The question is, whether
anybody would gain much if it were effected too rudely."

Grace was not greatly interested in the point. She
preferred a more personal topic, but she saw an opportunity
for trying how far her influence went. It had been a trifle
painful to find that Ingleby had not yielded to it when she
had desired him to spend the winter in Vancouver and
leave somebody else to hold Tomlinson's claim. Sewell was,
she recognized, a cleverer man than he, and it would be con-
soling if he showed himself more amenable.

"I think not — at least, so far as anybody in the Green
Eiver country is concerned," she said. "It seems to me
that its tranquillity depends a good deal on you."

"On me?"

Grace smiled. "Of course! You know it as well as
I do. Wouldn't it be better for your friends to put up
with a few little grievances rather than run the risk of
bringing a worse thing upon themselves?"

"Would we do that?"

"I think so. The major is a lenient commissioner; and
the law would be too strong for you."

Sewell laughed. "That," he said, "would have to be
proved, and I am not sure it is a good reason you are
offering me."

Grace nodded. "No," she said, "perhaps it isn't. You
rather like opposition, don't you ? Still, I think one could
leave it to your good sense, while I would especially like to
see all quiet this winter in the Green River valley. That,
however, could, of course, scarcely be thought a reason
at all."

Sewell made no disclaimer, but he looked at her with a
curious intensity.

256 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Events," he said slowly, "may be too strong for me,
and when I am sure they are right, I cannot go counter to
my opinions."

"Of course !" and the girl leaned forward a little nearer
him, resting one hand on the arm of her chair. "That is
more than I would ever ask of you. Still, perhaps you
could "

Sewell looked at her gravely, and laid his hand upon the
one that rested on the chair.

"I will," he said quietly, "with that one reservation,
do whatever appears most likely to preserve tranquillity."

Grace did not shake his grasp off, as she should have
done. Indeed, a little thrill of triumph ran through her as
she realized the significance of what had happened. The
man who held her hand fast had borne imprisonment for his
beliefs, and had also braved hostile mobs, hired bravos, and
detachments of U.S. cavalry, and now she had made him
captive with a smile. It was, from one point of view, a
notable achievement, and it did not dawn on her that if
regarded from another point what she had done might wear
a different aspect. Just then a book in the other room was
closed with a bang, and Grace drew her hand away as
Coulthurst came in.

"Sorry to leave you alone so long, but we can get the
chessmen out at last," he said.

Sewell set out the pieces, and Grace, who flashed a little
smile at him, which implied that there was now a con-
fidence between them, took up a book. As it happened,
! neither of them knew that Prospector Tomlinson was plod-
ding down the trail that led south through leagues of
forest and snow-blocked defiles towards the settlements
just then, though the fact had its results for both of them.

A half-moon hung low above the white shoulder of a hill,
and here and there a shaft of silvery light shone down upon
the snowy trail which wound in and out through the gloom
of the firs. Tomlinson was one of the simple-minded per-

TOMLINSON GETS AWAY 257

sons who content themselves with doing the obvious thing,
and, as it was quite plain to him that he could not stay at
the bakery without probability of being discovered and
getting his hosts into trouble, he had, in spite of Hetty's
protests, persisted in setting out for the settlements, though
he was still scarcely capable of the journey and it had been
pointed out that there was a likelihood of his falling in
with the police troopers. The latter fact did not, however,
so far as Tomlinson could see, affect the question. The one
thing that was clear to him was that he could not permit
Hetty and Tom Leger to involve themselves in difficulties.

He carried two rolled-up blankets and a good many
pounds of provisions, as well as a Marlin rifle, for it was a
very long way to the settlements, and the snow was deep
in the passes. He also walked slowly and with an effort,
for the strength he had exhausted had scarcely come back
to him yet, while the dusty snow balled beneath his worn-
out boots.

The bush was very still, for only a low murmur came
up across the pines from the rapids, which were free of ice.
The trees rose above him, solid spires of blackness cut sharp
against the white hillside beyond them, and Tomlinson
was glad of their shadow, because the corporal and one
of the troopers had gone down the trail that afternoon,
and, uncertain whether they had come back, he had no wish
to meet them. It is scarcely likely that he would have done
so, for he had an excellent sense of hearing and was making
very little noise, had not a trooper stopped to do some-
thing to his newly-issued winter coat, which did not fit
him comfortably. He spent some little time over it, as it
was necessary to take his big mittens off, and the corporal
improved the occasion by sitting down on a fallen tree to
light his pipe. They were both a little outside the trail
and in black shadow.

Tomlinson, in the meanwhile, came to an open space
some two or three score yards across. There were black

258 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

firs all about it, but the snow among them seemed deeper,
and, as he could hear nothing but the murmur of the river,
he made haste to cross it. It appeared advisable that
nobody should see him. He had almost reached the gloom
of the firs again when he heard a little, scraping sound
not unlike that the rubbing of a sulphur match would
make, and he stood still listening until a faint blue radiance
appeared amidst the trees, and then he moved towards
the nearest undergrowth with long and almost noiseless
strides. In another moment he stopped abruptly, and a
man in uniform, who came out from the dark gap of the
trail, also stopped and appeared to gaze at him. He car-
ried a carbine. The men were close together, and the moon,
which had just cleared the dark fir-tops, shone down on
both of them. The miner's face, as the policeman saw,
was drawn and grim.

"Tomlinson!" he gasped and then appeared to shake
his astonishment from him. "Stop right where you are!"

Tomlinson said nothing but, springing forward, hurled
himself into the undergrowth, which opened with a crash
and then closed behind him, while the trooper, who glanced
over his shoulder as if to see where the corporal was, wasted
another moment. Then he, too, sped across the little gap
in the forest, floundering through loose snow; and fell
into a barberry bush, which held him fast. So far. fortune
had favoured Tomlinson ; but as he flitted through the bush
looking for a little bye-trail which he knew was near, the
corporal appeared suddenly from behind a tree and threw
his carbine up.

"Hold on!" he said. "I've something to say to you."

A stray gleam of moonlight that shone down just there
flung a patch of brightness athwart the snow, and Tom-
linson could see the white face pressed down upon the
carbine-stock, but he did not pull up. Instead, he leapt into
the shadow, and in another second there was a pale flash,
and a sharp detonation rang among the trunks. Then he

TOMLINSON GETS AWAY 259

whipped behind a tree, and, seeing two men close behind
him now, flung up his rifle. In his country a man who is
shot at usually considers himself warranted in retaliating,
and Tomlinson was accustomed to the rifle. In fact, he
handled it much as an English sportsman does a gun, by
the balance of it, and with an instinctive sense of direction
which did not necessitate the aligning of the sights. The
result of this was that as the butt came home to his shoulder
the trooper dropped his carbine with a cry, and Tomlinson
sprang away once more through the smoke. He might
have got away altogether, but the corporal could shoot
as well as he could, and a few seconds later the fugitive
felt a stinging pain in one shoulder.

He staggered but recovered himself again, and running
a few yards farther dropped into a thicket, and wriggled
under it on his hands and knees. Then, while an un-
pleasant faintness crept over him, he felt for the long
knife which the prospector uses for cutting up an occasional
deer. It did not appear advisable to snap another cartridge
into the rifle-breech just then, and the knife would prove
equally serviceable if his pursuers crawled into the thicket
after him. Prospector Tomlinson was, like most of the
men who sojourn in that wilderness, a little primitive in
his notions, and the troopers had fired on him.

One of them made a good deal of noise floundering
through a belt of undergrowth just then, and only stopped
when the corporal called to him.

"Where's that blame branch-trail?" he asked.

"It's right here," said the trooper. "I guess our man's
lit out along it."

Time was of some consequence, and the corporal did
not deem it advisable to stop and consider. A man floun-
dering through the undergrowth would, he reasoned, be
heard a long way off, while a bushman could proceed with
very little noise along a beaten track. Thus, as he could
hear nothing, it appeared very probable that Tomlinson had

2G0 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

taken the latter. He and the trooper pushed on alonir it
for awhile, but there was no sign of the prospector, and
they came back moodily to where they had last seen him,
and proceeded to search every thicket in the vicinity. They
spent at least an hour over it, but there was still no ap-
pearance of Tomlinson, and at last the corporal sat down
disgustedly upon the fallen fir.

"I feel 'most certain I plugged him once," he said.
"What d'you let go your carbine for?"

The trooper held the weapon up in the moonlight and
glanced at the grey smear down the barrel. Then he held
up his left hand, which was stained with red.

"I'm not quite sure if the top of one of my fingers is
on or not," he said. "Anyway, my mitten's full of blood."

The corporal nodded curtly. "I guess it will grow
again," he said. "Well, it seems to me nobody could do
anything more to-night. We'll pick his trail up soon as
it's daylight." Then they shook the powdery snow from
them and plodded on towards the outpost.

XXVI

THE OBVIOUS THING

'"pHE stars were paling overhead, and the snow that cut
against the sky- was growing white again ; but it was
very cold among the pines where Leger was busy about
the crackling fire. A column of smoke rose slowly straight
up into the nipping air, and the blaze flickered redly upon
the clustering trunks, while the sound of an unfrozen rapid
broke faintly through the snapping of the fire. Leger, who
felt his fingers stiffening, took up his axe, and the rhythmic
thudding rang sharply in the stillness of the woods when
Hetty appeared in the door of the shanty, shadowy and
shapeless in the coarse blanket she had thrown about her
shoulders. She shivered a little as she looked around her.

"It has been a bitter night — the cold woke me when the
fire got low," she said. "Tomlinson must have felt it
horribly. I wonder where he's getting his breakfast ? You
shouldn't have let him go."

Leger laughed and leaned upon his axe. "I couldn't
have stopped him, and I don't think you need worry. The
cold is scarcely likely to hurt him — he's used to it. He is
probably three or four leagues away down the trail by
now."

"That isn't very far."

"It's tolerably good travelling in this country. Besides,
nobody except Sewell and Ingleby has the faintest notion
that he was here."

Hetty appeared reflective. "I wasn't quite sure about
261

262 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

•the corporal that night. He's too quiet and has^eyes all
over him. Still, I suppose Tomlinson has got away — of
course, he must have done so. His running away would
look very bad if they did get hold of him. Isn't that kettle
boiling, Tom?"

Leger stooped above the fire, and then, straightening
himself, suddenly stood still listening. He could hear the
sound of the rapid, and nothing else for a moment or two,
until a crackle of undergrowth came out of the gloom below.
Then there was a tramp of footsteps coming up the trail,
and Hetty turned to him sharply.

"Tom," she said, with a little gasp, "who can it be?"

Leger laid down the kettle he held in his hand. "The
troopers, I'm afraid," he said.

The light was growing clearer, and they could see each
other's faces. Hetty's was flushed and apprehensive,
Legers portentously quiet.

"They've come for Tomlinson," she said. "Tom, do
you know why he threw Probyn in the creek?"

"I fancy I could guess. Tomlinson, however, never
mentioned it."

"He wouldn't," and Hetty gasped again. "Tom, I'll
never forgive you if you let the troopers know anything
about him."

"I really don't think that was necessary," said Leger,
with a faint, dry smile.

Hetty clenched one hand tight. "Oh," she said, "can't
we run away?"

Leger turned and pointed to a shadowy figure that ma-
terialized out of the gloom among the trees below. There
were others behind it, and the two stood still watching
them as they came quickly up the trail. Then they stopped
at a sharp word, and a man in a big fur-coat stepped for-
ward. Hetty had no difficulty in recognizing him as
Esmond.

THE OBVIOUS THING 263

"Are you willing to tell me where Prospector Tomlinson
is? It would be the wisest thing," he said.

"I don't think that is quite the point," answered Leger
quietly. "You see, I don't know."

"Then I'll ask you where he went when he left here last
night?"

"You fancy he was here?"

Esmond made a little sign of impatience. "I should
like to warn you that a good deal depends upon the way
you answer me. You probably know that the person who
hides a murderer or connives at his escape is liable to be
tried as an accessory."

Leger stood silent a moment or two. It seemed rather
more than probable that Esmond had only supposed it
likely that Tomlinson had visited the bakery ; but that did
not greatly matter after all. His course was clear, and
that was to allow the officer to believe as long as possible
that Tomlinson was in the vicinity. Every minute gained
would be worth a good deal to the fugitive.

"I scarcely think I need worry myself about that," he
said. "You see, before you could charge me as an acces-
sory you would have to prove that Tomlinson really killed
Probyn. It's tolerably clear that you can't have a trial
without a prisoner, and I don't mind admitting that Tom-
linson isn't here."

Esmond smiled unpleasantly, and signed to one of the
troopers, who went into the shanty. "He certainly isn't
very far away. I have no doubt you could tell me where
he would make for; but you do not seem to know that he
was shot, and, we have reason to believe, badly wounded
within a league of your house last night."

It was growing light now, and he saw the sudden horror
in Hetty's eyes.

"If you have any control over your brother, Miss Leger,
I think it would be wise for you to use it," he said. "You
would not like him to get himself into trouble?"

264 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Hetty straightened herself a little. "If he knew where
Tomlinson was and told you, I'd be ashamed of him for-
ever— but he doesn't," she said.

Esmond glanced at her sharply. She stood very straight,
regarding him with a set, white face, and it was evident
that she was resolute. Then he turned to Leger.

"Are you willing to expose your sister to a very serious
charge?" he asked. *

Again Leger stood silent, but when he glanced at her a
little flash showed in Hetty's eyes.

"You daren't disgrace us both. Kemember, it was all
my fault," she said.

Then Leger turned to the officer. "I do not know where
Tomlinson is. That is all I have to tell you."

Esmond raised his hand. "Then I arrest you both for
concealing Prospector Tomlinson and contriving his escape.
You will hand them over to Robertson at the outpost,
Trooper Grieve, and then come on after us as fast as you
can. I don't wish to submit either of you to any indignity.
Leger, unless you are likely to make it necessary."

Leger's face turned crimson, but he made a little sign
of comprehension. "We will make no attempt to get
away."

Esmond signed to the trooper, who pointed somewhat
shamefacedly to the shadowy path among the pines as he
swung his carbine to the trail. Then Hetty and Leger
moved on in front of him, while Esmond and the others
vanished into the bush. It was almost daylight now, and
the troopers spent some time tracing Tomlin son's footsteps
between the trunks. They also found the thicket where he
had flung himself down, but that, after all, told them very
little, and both the bye-trail and the larger one were
tramped too hard for his worn-out boots to leave any
recognizable impression.

It was, however, evident that Tomlinson could have
adopted only one of two courses. If he had escaped unin-

THE OBVIOUS THING 265

jured he would certainly head for the settlements along the
beaten trail, down which a trooper had been sent already;
but no wounded man could face that arduous journey,
and assuming that the corporal's shot had taken effect,
he would, as a matter of course, be lurking somewhere in
the valley. In that case the trailing of him could only be
a question of a day or two, for even if he could face the
bitter frost in the open he must have food, and there would
be no difficulty in tracing the footsteps of any one who
brought it to him. The one question was whether Tomlin-
son was badly hurt, and as the corporal, who fancied so,
could not be quite sure, Esmond pushed on southwards
along the trail. If Tomlinson had not headed in that direc-
tion he was in the valley, and, if so, he certainly could not
get away.

As a matter of fact, he was just then lying weak from
loss of blood in a little, decrepit shanty on an abandoned
claim. He had contrived to reach one of the miners' dwell-
ings late the previous night, though he was never quite sure
how he accomplished it, and fell in across the threshold
when its astonished owner opened the door. The man,
however, kept his head, and within an hour Tomlinson was
carried to the claim in one of the more distant gorges, where
it appeared a little less likely that Esmond would lay hands
on him. Now he was huddled half-sensible, in his blanket
upon a pile of cedar twigs, with Ingleby and a young
American, who had just dug out a carbine-bullet which had
badly smashed his shoulder-blade, sitting by his side. In-
gleby did not know whether his companion was a quali-
fied surgeon ; but he had, at least, contrived to cut out the
bullet and stanch the wound. He appeared a trifle anxious
about his patient.

"The shock would have dropped a man raised in the
cities right off, but I think we'll pull him round," he said.
"Still, it's not going to be done in a day or two."

The fact was very evident, and Ingleby nodded. "How

266 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

long do you think it will be before lie can walk again?" he
said.

"A month, anyway, and quite likely six weeks; that is,
before you could let him start out on the trail. I don't
quite know what we're going to do with him in the mean-
while."

Tomlinson, who appeared to understand him, looked up
with his face awry.

"You're not going to do anything," he said half -coher-
ently. "I'll give myself up. I can't stay here and make
trouble for the boys."

"You go to sleep !" said the other man severely, and
made a little sign to Ingleby, who sat silent for a minute
or two after Tomlinson sank back again on the twigs.

"That's just the point," he said. "The boys don't mean
to let the police have him ?"

"No," and Ingleby's manner suggested that the subject
was not worth discussion. "They wouldn't think of it for
a minute. I'd have nothing more to do with them if they
did."

The American nodded. "Well," he said, "I can pull the
man round, but I'm not going to answer for what will
happen if the troopers get hold of him. He's tough, but
he wants looking after, and there's no one at the outpost
knows more than enough to pull a stone out of a cayuse's
hoof."

"You can take out a bullet, anyway," said Ingleby sug-
gestively.

"Oh yes. I'd have had quite a nice practice by this
time if it had been convenient for me to stay in Connecti-
cut. As it happened, it wasn't."

Ingleby looked at him steadily. "Tomlinson," he said,
"is a friend of mine, and that, of course, implies an obliga-
tion. You, so far as I know, have had very little to do
with him, and it seems only reasonable to warn you that

THE OBVIOUS THING 26*7

you may get yourself into serious trouble by looking after
him. The law is generally carried out in our country."

The American laughed. "I can take my chances. I'm
not going back on a sick man, anyway."

They said nothing more for awhile until a man who had
apparently been running came in.

"Where's Sewell?" he gasped.

"I don't know," said Ingleby. "He wasn't at home
this morning. Most likely he's looking for a deer."

"Then I guess you'll have to do. Esmond has trailed
Tomlinson to the bakery. He has got Hetty and Tom
Leger at the outpost now."

Ingleby rose suddenly to his feet. "You're quite sure?"

"Well," said the other, "I guess I ought to be. I met
them. Trooper Grieve didn't stop their talking, and they
told me. Esmond tried to bluff where Tomlinson was out
of them, and the}T're to stand in with him as accessories."

It was evident to Ingleby that since Sewell was away a
heavy responsibility devolved upon him as a friend of Tom-
linson and Leger. He was expected to do something, and,
as usual, he did the obvious thing without counting what
it would cost him.

"Where is Esmond?" he asked.

"Hitting the trail to the settlements all he's worth,"
said the other man.

"Then go round and let the boys know what you have
told me. They can meet outside Ransom e's shanty. The
dinner-hour will do. I'll be there to meet them."

The man went out, and at the time appointed Ingleby
stood outside a little hut of bark and logs with a crowd of
bronze-faced men about him. They were somewhat silent,
but their manner was quietly resolute. It suggested that
their minds were made up and that they were only wait-
ing for a leader in whom they had confidence. Ingleby
had gained their liking, but he was young, and they were
not quite sure whether he would be the man or whether

268 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

they must choose another. In the meanwhile they were
willing to give him a hearing. It was evident that he was
equal to the occasion when he stepped forward and looked
at them with steady eyes.

"Boys," he said, "do any of you believe Tomlinson killed
Trooper Probyn?"

There was a general murmur of dissent, and Ingleby
made a little sign of concurrence. "Are you willing to let
the troopers have him? You must remember that the
thing looks bad against him, and he will not be tried by
you."

The murmurs were articulate now, and it was very clear
that not a man there had the least intention of giving up
Tomlinson.

"Then it should be quite plain that you will have to
keep the troopers from him. It is only a question of a day
or two at the longest before they trail him. They may do
it to-night. Esmond will very soon find out that he isn't
pushing on in front of him for the settlements."

A big man stood forward, and glanced at the rest.
"There's not a trooper in this valley going to lay hands
on Tomlinson."

Again the murmurs rose portentously, and Ingleby
smiled.

"Well," he said, "since the trouble can't be shuffled off,
we may as well face it now. We have got to make a stand
and maintain it until Esmond finds he has to humour us.
He has Leger and his sister in the outpost. Do you know
any reason why we shouldn't take them out?"

"I guess not," said the man who had spoken already.
" Still, if there's any shooting, two or three of us are going
to smell trouble as well as Tomlinson."

"There will not be any," said Ingleby. "Esmond has
only two men at the outpost. Nobody wants to hurt them.
The thing can be done without it. In fact, that's essential.
I want three or four determined men."

THE OBVIOUS THING 269

They were forthcoming, but one of the rest asked a
question.

"Have you figured what's going to happen when Esmond
comes back?" he said.

"I have," said Ingleby. "He will have a handful of
tolerably active men under his orders then, but only a hand-
ful, after all. Now, the outpost's outside the canon, and
there's a spot where a log barricade would effectively block
the trail. The troopers will have to be kept outside it until
we can arrive at a compromise. Esmond will probably
make it. It would be two months, anyway, before he could
get more troopers in, and if there's another heavy snowfall
it mightn't be done till spring."

Xone of those who listened could find fault with the
scheme. It was evidently workable, and they had already
decided that Tomlinson was not to be given up at any cost.
That, as Ingleby had pointed out, would necessarily involve
them in difficulties with the police. There was thus very
little further discussion, and the men went back, a trifle
thoughtfully, to their work until the evening.

It seemed to most of them a long while coming, and to
none of them slower than it did to Hetty Leger, who sat
with her brother in a very little, log-walled room at the out-
post as dusk was closing down. Tom Leger, glancing at her
as she sat huddled in a chair by the window, fancied that
she was crying.

"Why did we come here, Tom?" she said. "Every-
thing has gone wrong since we left Vancouver."

"The outlook certainly isn't very cheerful just now,"
said Leger, with a rueful smile. " Still, after all, you made
a good many dollars at the bakery, and my claim is doing
well. Ingleby will see that while I'm kept here the work
is carried on. One can put up with a good deal of incon-
venience when he's washing out gold-dust."

" Dollars !" said Hetty. "And gold-dust ! Is there noth-
ing else worth having?"

2*70 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Well," said Leger drily, "when you have no prospect
of getting it, it's as well to content oneself with dollars.
If I remember rightly you used to think a good deal of a
shilling in England."

Hetty glanced at him sharply with hazy eyes. "What do
you mean by — no prospect of getting it?"

"I don't quite know. You suggested the notion. Any-
way, I scarcely think Esmond can make out very much of
a case against us. He doesn't really know that Tomlinson
was at the bakery."

"It isn't that that's worrying me. It's — everything,"
said Hetty.

"I don't think you need cry over Tomlinson. The boys
will take care of him."

"I wasn't crying about Tomlinson. In fact, I'm not
sure I was crying at all. Still, you see, it was all my fault."

Leger smiled whimsically. "Well," he said, "I scarcely
think that should afford you any great satisfaction, though
it almost seems to do so. No doubt it's part of a girl's
nature to make trouble of the kind."

Hetty closed one hand. "I'm going to be angry in a
minute. That's not the way to talk to any one who's
feeling — what I am just now."

Leger rose and patted her shoulder. "I'd sooner see
you raging than looking as you do. Shake the mood off,
Hetty. It isn't in the least like you."

Hetty said nothing but turned from him and looked out
of the little window. A young trooper was leaning over
the rude balustrade of the veranda, and beyond him the
sombre pines rolled down the darkening valley. Night had
not quite fallen yet, though a half-moon that showed red
and frosty was growing brighter above the ^vhite shoulder
of a hill. Another trooper was apparently busy in the
adjoining room, for they could hear his footsteps as he
moved, but that was the only sound. Then a face rose
suddenly into sight above the floor of the veranda where

THE OBVIOUS THING 271

the trooper could not see it. It was a horrible, grey face,
and Hetty shrank back, while her chair grated harshly on
the floor. In another moment Tom Leger's hand closed
tightly on her arm.

"Keep still!" he said. "It's a masked man. I fancy
the boys have come for us."

Hetty looked again, and saw that a strip of deer-hide
with holes cut in it was tied across the face. Then she be-
came sensible that there was something suggestively famil-
iar in the attitude of the man who, moving noiselessly,
raised himself erect and stood watching the trooper, whose
back was towards him.

"Oh," she gasped, "it's Walter!"

"Be quiet!" said Leger, and the grasp upon her arm
grew tighter.

Another face appeared between the rails, but the first
man had already swung one leg over them, and in another
moment he sprang forward along the veranda. The trooper
heard him and swung round, but even as he did so the new-
comer fluDg his arms about him and they reeled together
down the little stairway. Then the second trooper flung
open the door, but as he ran out of it two or three men
who had apparently crept into the veranda grappled with
him, and Hetty could hear them tumbling up and down
the adjoining room. Then there was a brief silence until
somebody burst open the door of the room in which she was
shut. A masked man who strode in grasped her shoulder,
and she struggled vainly as he drew her towards the door.

"I won't go. It will only get you into worse trouble,"
she said.

The man laughed. "If I had to face it all my life, do
you think I would leave you here?"

Hetty recognized the tension in his voice, and something
that seemed to answer it thrilled in her ; but she still pro-
tested, and the man, who flung an arm about her waist,

272 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

swung her off her feet. He did not let her go until he set
her down, flushed and gasping, among the pines outside.

Then she laughed. "I'm not sure you could have done
that in England, Walter."

"No," said Ingleby. "Anyway, you wouldn't have let
me, but we can't stop to talk now. Esmond may come
back at any time, and there is a good deal to do." He
turned from her suddenly. "You have got those fellows'
carbines ?"

"Oh yes," said another man. "We'd better bring along
their cartridges and heave them in the river too. We
haven't hurt either of them much, considering."

Ingleby signed to the rest, though he still held Hetty's
arm. "Now," he said, "the sooner we light out of this
the better it will be for everybody."

XXVII

THE BLOCKADE

HP HE moon was high above the white peaks, and a sting-
ing frost was in the air, when Ingleby and Leger
sat a little apart from a snapping fire behind a great red-
wood trunk that had been felled across the trail in the con-
stricted entrance to the canon. It was wide of girth, and
lay supported on the stumps of several splintered branches
breast-high above the soil, with the rest of its spreading
limbs piled about it in tremendous ruin. On the side where
the fire was some of them had been hewn away, and a hand-
ful of men lounged smoking in the hollow between them
and the trunk. Another man stood upon the tree, ap-
parently looking down the valley, with his figure cutting
blackly against the blueness of the night.

Sewell leaned against a shattered branch a few feet away
from Ingleby, gazing about him reflectively. He noticed
that the great butt of the fir was jammed against the
slope of rock that ran up overhead, too steep almost for
the snow to rest upon it, and that the top of the tree was
in the river some twenty yards away. The stream frothed
and roared about it in a wild white rapid, though long
spears of crackling ice stretched out behind the boulders,
and there was a tremendous wall of rock on the farther
side. It was absolutely unscalable, and from the crest of it
ranks of clinging pines rolled backwards up a slope that was
almost as steep.

It was evident that nobodv coming from the police out-

273

274 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

post or the commissioner's dwelling could approach the
fallen tree except by the trail in front, and on that side
the branches formed an entanglement an agile man would
have some difficulty in scrambling through, even if nobody
desired to prevent him, while two or three of the men beside
the fire had rifles with them. The rest had axes. Sewell,
who noticed all this, glanced towards them thoughtfully.
He could not see their faces, but their silence had its sig-
nificance, and there was a vague suggestion of resolution
in their attitudes. Most of them were men of singularly
unyielding temperament, who had grappled with hard rock
and primeval forest from their youth up.

"It is a tolerably strong position, and it's the strength
of it that particularly pleases me," he said. "If there
were any prospect of his getting in Esmond would no doubt
try it. As it is, he will probably find -it advisable to stop
outside and compromise."

"I'm glad you're satisfied," said Leger. "Still, it's a
little unfortunate you were not here this morning. In
that case we might have found some other means of getting
over the difficulty, though I'm not sure that there was
any."

Ingleby glanced sharply at Leger. His face was clear
in the moonlight, and it was expressionless, but his tone
had been suggestively dry, and for just a moment an un-
pleasant fancy flashed upon Ingleby. It was certainly un-
fortunate that Sewell, whom everybody looked to for guid-
ance, had been away that day, and the fact might have
had significance for any one who doubted him. Ingleby,
however, had unshaken confidence in the man and thrust
the thought from him. Sewell smiled as he turned to
Leger.

"I was looking for a deer," he said. "Anywa}r, you had
Ingleby."

"Ingleby," said Leger, "is usually where he's wanted.
Some men have that habit. It's a useful one, though I'm

THE BLOCKADE 275

afraid I haven't acquired it. In fact, I fancy I'm rather
like Trooper Probyn. He was addicted to turning up just
when it would have been better for everybody if he had
stayed away."

He turned from them somewhat abruptly and strolled
towards the men about the fire, while Sewell looked
thoughtful as he filled his pipe.

"Leger doesn't appear to be in a particularly pleasant
mood, but he's right in one respect," he said. "It would
have been a good deal better if he and Hetty had been
anywhere else when Esmond turned up at the bakery. Of
course, they couldn't help it, but the result of it is going
to be serious. , It is not exactly convenient that the thing
should have happened now."

Ingleby made a gesture of comprehension as he glanced
towards the men about the fire. Their big axes gleamed
suggestively, and the rifle of the man upon the tree twinkled
coldly where the moonlight rested on the line of barrel.

"It's all of it unfortunate," he said deprecatingly. "I
suppose I'm responsible — but I don't quite see what else
anybody could have expected me to do. I couldn't leave
Hetty in Esmond's hands. It was out of the question. The
police wouldn't have much difficulty in making her out an
accessory."

Sewell smiled. "That was all that occurred to you?"

"Yes," said Ingleby. "I think so. I don't seem to re-
member anything else. Anyway, it was sufficient."

He made a little forceful gesture which suggested even
more plainly than what he said that the thought of leaving
Hetty exposed to any peril was intolerable.

"And you inconsequently decided to put up a bluff of
this kind on the British nation because Esmond might in-
volve in difficulties a girl with whom you are not in love.
I'm presuming you are not in love with her?"

Ingleby seemed a trifle disconcerted. "No," he said
sharply. " Of course I'm not. What made you suggest it ?"

276 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Sewell laughed. "Well," he said, "for one thing, if you
had been in love with her, you could scarcely have done
anything that would have made the fact clearer."

There was silence for a minute or two, and Ingleby leaned
upon the tree with his thoughts in confusion. He was not
in love with Hetty Leger, but it was certainly a fact that
her arrest had filled him with an almost unaccountable
consternation. He also remembered the curious little laugh
with which she had clung to him, and that it had stirred
him as no trifling favour Grace Coulthurst had ever shown
him had done. The commissioner's daughter had, however,
certainly never leaned upon his shoulder with her arms
about him, though he had on one occasion, when she was
half-frozen, practically carried her into her father's dwell-
ing. The thought of it was, in a curious fashion, almost
distasteful, as well as preposterous. His regard for her
was largely that of a devotee, an aesthetic respect which
would have made any display of purely human proclivities
on the part of the goddess a trifle disconcerting.

There 'are men like Ingleby whose life is, partly from
inclination and partly from force of circumstances, in some
respects one of puritanical simplicity, especially in the
hack blocks of England's colonies ; and, startled by Sewell's
suggestion, he tried to reason with himself as he leaned
against the tree. He remembered now how he had thrilled
to the girl's touch as, half-crying and half-laughing, she
had rested in his arms a few hours ago, and he could not
admit the almost unpleasant explanation that this was
because they were man and woman. Still, he had felt her
heart beating upon his breast, and something in his nature
had, it seemed to him, awakened and throbbed in response
to it. It was, he felt, not sensual passion ; it was not love,
since it was Grace Coulthurst he loved ; and his confusion
grew more confounded as he vainly strove to classify it.
Ingleby, as one who did the obvious thing, and was usually
doing something unless he was asleep, had seldom been

THE BLOCKADE 277

led into any attempt to unravel the complexities of human
thought and emotion. Men of his temperament are as a
rule too busy for anything of the kind. It is material facts
that interest them, and their achievements are usually ap-
parent and substantial, written in that country on hard
rock and forest or on the orchards and wheatfields that
smile where the wilderness has been.

"Well?" said Sewell at length.

Ingleby made a little gesture. "The thing is done.
Why I did it doesn't, after all, greatly matter. We have
the results of it to face just now."

"Precisely! That's why I'm pleased you chose a very
convenient spot to chop the tree in. There's one of them
becoming apparent already."

He pointed across the fallen log, and the man who stood
upon it made a little sign. The tree was in the shadow,
but beyond it lay a narrow strip of moonlit snow, upon
which the dusky pines closed in again. A man moved out
into the strip, walking cautiously, and carrying a carbine.
He stopped abruptly, dropping the butt of it with a little
thud, and, turning his head, he apparently glanced at some-
body behind him.

"They've chopped a big tree right across the trail," he
said.

His voice rang clearly through the nipping air, and In-
gleby almost envied him as he stood unconcernedly still, a
dusky, motionless object, with a blacker shadow projected
in front of him on the gleaming snow. He, at least, had
no responsibility, and was there to do what he was bidden,
while the law would hold him guiltless. The brief and
decisive attempt on the outpost had scarcely given Ingleby
cause for thought, but it was different now. There was
nothing exhilarating in standing still and wondering what
course the police would take, while other men have felt
misgivings when brought face to face with constituted au-
thority with arms in its hand.

278 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Sewell in the meanwhile moved quietly towards the fire.

"You will leave this thing to me, hoys," he said. "Above
all, keep your hands off those rifles. It's a bluff we're
putting up."

By this time several other men had moved out upon the
strip of snow, and one who came up from behind walked
past them and stopped not far from the tree. Ingleby
could see his face in the moonlight, and recognized him a.s
Esmond. He looked up at the man who, though he had
handed his rifle to a comrade, still stood upon the log re-
garding him quietly.

"Well," he said, "what are you doing there?"

" Seeing that nobody gets over," was the uncompromising
answer.

Esmond laughed, as though he had partly expected this.
"There are no doubt more of you behind there. If you
have one, I would prefer to talk to your recognized leader."

Sewell sprang up upon the tree. "I think I can venture
to claim my comrades' confidence," he said. "In any case,
I am quite willing to accept the responsibility for anything
that has been done."

"You may be asked to remember that," said Esmond
drily. "Do you mind explaining why you felled this tree ?"

"I think the man who answered you already made that
clear. To prevent anybody's getting over. Once you
recognize that it would be difficult to do it without our
permission, we'll go a little further."

"Then you are deliberately placing obstacles in the my
of the police carrying out their duty? I warn you that it
may turn out a serious matter."

Sewell laughed. "I'm not sure the question is a very
happy one. It is rather too suggestive of Monday morning
in England. Still, I suppose what we mean to do amounts
to that, although we will have pleasure in permitting you
to enter the valley when you wish, on one or two perfectly
reasonable conditions."

THE BLOCKADE 279

"It remains to be seen whether you can keep us out."
Esmond raised his voice a trifle. "Climb up on that log,
Trooper Grieve, and let me know who Prospector Sewell
has with him," he said. "You have authority to fire on
anybody who tries to prevent you."

It seemed to Ingleby that Esmond had displayed a good
deal of tact. He was aware that in an affair of the kind
the right start counts for a good deal, and that if the
miners permitted the trooper to survey their position it
might lead to an unwished-for change in their attitude.
If they did not, it would make them the aggressors, and
there was the further difficulty that they would probably
shrink from offering violence to a single man.

"The trooper must not be hurt, boys, but he must not
get up on the log," he said, and turned to Sewell with a
little gesture of deprecation.

Sewell nodded. "You're right — if we can manage it,"
he said.

In the meanwhile the young trooper was walking to-
wards the barrier. Ingleby surmised that he had no great
liking for his task, but beyond the fact that he was holding
himself unusually straight, and looking steadfastly in
front of him, he showed no sign of it. The moonlight was
on his face, and it was almost expressionless.

"Stop right where you are," said one of the miners
sharply. "I guess you'd better !"

The trooper did not stop, nor did. he answer. If he had
his misgivings as a human being, he was also a part of the
great system by which his nation's work is done and its
prestige maintained; and he went on with stiff, measured
strides which suggested the movements of an automaton.
A handful of men behind the log, and another handful
standing in the moonlight on the gleaming snow, stood
silently watching him, and most of them felt an almost
unpleasant sense of tension.

Then he came to the branches, and stopped a moment,

280 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

as though uncertain what to do. His carbine presented
the difficulty, since to scramble over that tangle of branches
and twigs both hands would be necessary. Then he slung
it behind him, and every one could hear the sharp snap
of the clip-hook through the bitter air. After that there
was a crash as he plunged into a maze of dusky needles,
and he was gasping when he emerged again. He was,
however, still coming on, crawling over branches, swinging
himself under some of them, while two miners waited for
him, intent and strung up, behind the log. When he
reached it the top of the bark was almost level with his head,
and, throwing an arm upon it, he essayed to draw himself
up. At the same moment two pairs of sinewy hands seized
his shoulders, and lifted him from his feet. Then there
was a shout and a swing, and he was hurled backwards like
a stone. He broke through the shadowy needles amidst a
crash of snapped-off twigs, and there was a confused floun-
dering in the darkness below. Then a head rose out of it,
and the trooper stood straight in the moonlight upon the
fork of a great limb, looking back towards his officer now.

"Am I to try again, sir?" he asked.

There was a burst of approving laughter from the miners,
and the trooper sprang down from the branch and moved
towards his comrades when Esmond made a sign, while a
man who had been speaking apart with the latter suddenly
stepped forward.

"It's the major," said one of the miners. "Give him a
show. Come right along, sir. Nobody going to hurt you !"

Coulthurst made a little gesture with a lifted hand, and
his remarks were brief.

"You'll gain nothing by making fools of yourselves, my
men," he said. "The law is a good deal too strong for
you. Now, try to tell me sensibly what is worrying you,
and if it comes within my business I'll see what I can do."
. Sewell stood up upon the log, and took off his big,

THE BLOCKADE 281

shapeless hat. There was silence for a moment while the
major looked at him.

"Mr. Sewell," he said gravely, "I'm sorry to see you
here."

"I'm a little sorry myself, sir," said Sewell. "Still,
that's not quite the point, and if you will listen for a minute
or two I will try to make our views clear. They are really
not unreasonable. In the first place we want Tomlinson
tried here by his peers, which, although a little unusual,
could, I think, be done. If Captain Esmond can prove
him guilty, we will give him up, and he can get a regular
court to confirm the verdict. Then we ask immunity for
the men who held up the outpost, and one or two trifling
modifications of the mining regulations which are probably
within the discretion afforded you by your commission."

"It seems to me," said Coulthurst drily, "that you are
asking a good deal. More, in fact, than you are likely to
get. You insist on all that?"

"We feel compelled to do so, sir."

Coulthurst made a little sign and moved back to where
Esmond stood. They conferred together, and the major
spoke again.

''Captain Esmond is willing to promise that if you go
home straightway no proceedings will be taken against
any man for his share in this night's work. He will prom-
ise you nothing further, and I may say that in this I
quite concur with him. I must warn you that what you
are doing is a very serious thing."

"Then," said Sewell quietly, "there is nothing more to
be said. We have strength enough effectively to prevent
Captain Esmond from going any further up the valley. It
would be better for everybody if he did not compel us to
make use of it."

Esmond, who had been unusually patient hitherto, ap-
parently lost his self-command.

"We will endeavour to whip the insolence out of you,"

282 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

he said. "By the time the thing is settled your leaders
will be exceptionally sorry for themselves."

He drew back a little with the major, and they appeared,
to be talking earnestly for a space. It seemed to Ingleby
that Esmond wished to chance an attack; but perhaps the
troopers were worn-out, or the major recognized the
strength of the miners' position, for at last he made a little
sign, and the men moved back silently into the shadow of
the pines. Then the tension slackened, and Ingleby shiv-
ered a little as he strode towards the fire.

"It's horribly cold, though I never felt it until a minute
or two ago," he said. "Well, I suppose we are in for it
now !"

Sewell laughed in a curious fashion. "I almost think
so. Captain Esmond is not a very imposing personage in
himself, but he stands for a good deal, you see. Still, it's
tolerably evident that he will not trouble us any more to-
night."

A few minutes later another miner climbed up on the
log, and the rest lay down, rolled in their blankets, about
the crackling fire.

XXVIII

snowed m

Hp WO months passed almost uneventfully after the felling
of the tree, for Esmond found no means of forcing
the entrance to the valley. The canon furnished the only
road to it, and he found £. band of determined men ready to
dispute his passage each time he appeared before the tree.
A company of sappers could scarcely have raised them a
more efficient defense than the one they had made at the
cost of an hour's labour with the axe, and Esmond re-
luctantly recognized that it was practically unassailable by
the trifling force at his command. An attempt to carry it
by assault could only result in his handful of men being
swept away, and strategy proved as useless, for when the
troopers floundered upstream at night through the crackling
ice-cake in the slacker flow of the rapid they came to a
furious rush of water, and with difficulty gained the bank
again. An attempt to crawl up to the barrier in the dark-
ness resulted as unsuccessfully, for a man leapt up upon
the log with a blazing brand almost as they left the shelter
of the pines.

The getting in was also only half the difficulty, for even
if he passed the barrier the miners could muster a score
of men for every one he had. It was thus apparently useless
to provoke actual hostilities. The cards were evidently in
•Sewell's hand, and it was clear that he recognized this and
had his men in perfect command. Not a shot had been
fired — indeed, no miner had actually been seen with a

283

284 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

rifle — and the only act of overt violence was the hurling of
Trooper Grieve from the log. In the meanwhile Esmond
had written to the Provincial authorities in Victoria, but
two different troopers who set out with his letters came back
again. The snowfall had been abnormal, and, though they
were hard men, they admitted that to force a way through
the passes was beyond their ability. As one result of this,
Grace Coulthurst had abandoned all idea of going to Van-
couver.

In the meanwhile work was being carried on slowly and
painfully in the valley, where the men thawed the soil
with great fires on the shallow claims and postponed the
washing until the ice should melt again. Between whiles
they mounted guard behind the log, and slept when they
could. They were as far from submission as ever, but the
tension had slackened long ago, and there was nothing
but the breastwork to show that imperial authority was
being quietly set at nought in the Green Eiver valley. It
was merely a question whose provisions would hold out
longest now ; but the question was a vitally important one,
and one night three or four of the leaders sat discussing
it in Sewell's shanty.

"So far, everything has gone very much as one could
expect," he said. "The trouble will naturally come in the
spring when Esmond can bring more troopers in. That is,
of course, unless we can make terms before then, which is,
I fancy, quite probable."

"And if we can't?" asked the American who had at-
tended to Tomlinson. "That police captain shows very
little sign of backing down."

"Then we'll have to bring over the men from Wester-
house," said Ingleby. "I think they'll come, and, because
it will not be difficult to block out Slavin, who is in com-
mand of the police there, if he comes along after them, the
position will be much the same as before."

SNOWED IN 285

He looked at Sewell, who, however, did not appear to
have heard him.

"What's going to stop the other people from sending a
whole regiment along?" asked the American.

"The British official character," said Sewell drily. "It
wouldn't look well, you see, and it would hurt somebody's
dignity to admit that it was necessary, — that is, of course,
so long as we play our cards cleverly. This trouble would
be regarded from the official point of view as merely a
little temporary friction which could be got over if handled
tactfully. Indeed, I shouldn't wonder if Esmond is quietly
reprimanded for causing it ; but one has to remember that
if you persist in making our rulers see what they don't
wish to, they're apt to display an activity that's likely to
prove as unpleasant to men in our position as it is unusual.
They don't want to move if they can help it, but some-
body has to smart for it if they're forced to."

"That's quite right," said another man, "I remember
Kiel, and they'd have let him down again if he'd known
enough not to aggravate them by killing that man at Fort
Garry. "Well, I guess we've no use for that while Esmond
keeps his head, and the one question is what we're going
to eat. It's quite certain I can't live on cedar bark. We
want grub, and we've got to get it. There are men right
here who could break a trail to anywhere."

"If we try the usual one we'll only clear it for Esmond
to bring troopers in," said Ingleby.

That was evident to everybody, and there was silence
until Sewell spoke again.

"I've been well up the south fork of the river looking
for deer," he said. " The valley's level, and I didn't strike
a rapid, while with the snow on the river one could keep
clear of the timber. The slight thaw we had should make
a good crust for travelling, and it wouldn't be much trouble
to make a few jumper-sleds for the provisions. The diffi-
culty is that whoever went would have to cross the divide

286 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

from headwater and pick up the "usual trail on the other
side."

"Nobody has ever been over," said another man. "I've
no use for crawling up precipices with a big flour-bag on
my back."

"That might be because nobody has ever tried," said
SewelL "One advantage in going that way is that Esmond
wouldn't know you had either gone out or come back again.
We don't want to make a road for him." Then he turned
to the American. "How's Tomlinson to-night?"

"Going very slow. The frost's against him. Wound
won't heal, and half-rotten pork and bread isn't quite the
thing to feed a sick man. He should have been on his feet
quite a while ago."

There was a brief discussion, and as the result of it
twenty men, of whom Ingleby was one, were fixed upon to
make the attempt. They were all of them willing, and
started two days later before the stars had paled, while
every man in the valley, except those on guard behind the
log, assembled to see them go, though Ingleby did not
know that Hetty Leger stood a little apart from them
watching the shadowy figures melt into the gloom beneath
the pines. It was, everybody knew, by no means certain
that all of them would come back again.

They made their way up-river, dragging a few rude
sledges with them, and they crossed the big divide in the
face of one of the blinding snowstorms that rage on the
higher ranges most of the winter. That cost them a week
of tremendous labour; and then they floundered through
tangled muskegs, where the stunted pines that grew in
summer out of quaggy mire had been reaped and laid in
rows by the Arctic winds. Their branches were strewn
about them, and the men smashed a way through the hor-
rible maze, making, with infinite pains, scarcely a league
a day. Still, the muskegs were left behind, and the ground
was clearer in a big brulee where fire had licked up under-

SNOWED IN 287

growth and branches and the great trunks rose gauntly,
charred and tottering columns. There they made as much
as four leagues in a day through ashes and dusty snow, and
at last came out on the trail to the settlement, dragging
with them one man whose feet were frost-bitten. Nobody
had crossed the divide before; but that was probably be-
cause nobody had hitherto been driven by necessity into
trying, and now, as usually happens in that country, the
thing attempted had been done.

The settlement was not an especially cheerful spot, con-
sisting as it did of three or four log-houses roofed with
cedar shingles which their owners had split, a store, and a
frame hotel covered in with galvanized iron, though slabs
of bark had been largely used as well. They, however,
rested there several days, and they needed it, while the
hearts of most of them sank a trifle at the contemplation
of the journey home. They had set out light, but the store
was crammed with provisions, which the freighter, who had
somehow brought them there, had abandoned all hope of
taking farther. It was evident they must each go back
with a load which a man unaccustomed to the packing
necessary in that country could scarcely carry a mile, and
the hardiest prospector among them shrank from crossing
the divide with such a burden. The thing, however, had
to be done, and on the night before their departure they
were arranging their packs in the store when the man who
kept it pointed to a pile of bags and cases in a corner.

"That's the police lot, and I guess they'll want the
grub," he said. "I can't quite figure why none of them
have come in for it, but you could strike them for transport
on anything you took along."

The reason Esmond had not sent down to inquire about
his stores was, of course, quite plain to the miners ; but no-
body in that settlement knew which way they had reached
it or what had happened in the Green Eiver valley, and
Sewell laughed.

288 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"I am not," he said, "a freight-ox or a dromedary, and
the rest of us have already got a good deal more than any
one could reasonably expect them to carry."

The storekeeper glanced at a stout deal box. "Well,"
he said, "I guess there's not much more than twelve pounds
in there, and it's for the major — tea and coffee and some
special fixings from Vancouver. If he don't get it, he and
Miss Coulthurst will come right down to drinking water.
The freighter couldn't take more than a half-case of whisky
in for him last time, and I guess that's not going to last
the Gold Commissioner long."

Ingleby, who was acquainted with the major's habits,
surmised that this was very probable, but it appeared of
much less consequence than the fact that Grace might also
have to do without even the few small comforts it had
hitherto been possible to bring into the Green Eiver coun-
try. He no longer remembered the galling of the pack-
straps or the tremendous struggle over the big divide, but
laid his hand upon the box.

"We'll manage this one, anyway," he said. "I'll take it
along with me."

Then, turning at the sound of a step, he saw that Sewell,
who had followed apparently with the same purpose, was
looking at him.

"Well," he said, "what do you want?"

"You can't take that case," said Sewell. "My pack's
lighter."

Ingleby was a trifle astonished. "I was first," he said.
"Is there any special reason why you should have it in-
stead of me?"

Sewell laughed, though his tone was not quite his usual
one.

"No," he said. "If one must be candid, I scarcely think
there is."

It had never occurred to Ingleby that his comrade might
have set himself to gain Miss Coulthurst's favour and in a

SNOWED IN 289

measure succeeded. He would have thought the notion
preposterous in view of Sewell's opinions, and he smiled
good-humouredly.

"It really doesn't matter. I wouldn't have let you have
it, anyway," he said, and drew the storekeeper aside.

They started at daybreak next morning, and before they
had gone a league Ingleby found that the extra twelve
pounds made his burden almost insupportable. Still, he
set his lips and bore it, taking a grim pleasure in the nip of
the straps that galled his shoulders as he remembered for
whom he was carrying the box. They were raw, and he was
worn-out when the men made camp beneath a towering fir
as the coppery sun went down, but it was very much worse
on the morrow when he rose with aching limbs from the
frozen soil to start again. Somehow he kept his place with
the others throughout that weary day and the ones that
dragged by after it, though when he remembered them
afterwards the blurred pictures his fancy called up were
like an evil dream of fatigue and pain--

They sank ankle-deep in ashes in*the trulee, rent their
limbs and garments smashing through the muskeg, melted
the snow with their camp-fires by lakes and streams whose
shores even the wandering prospector's foot had scarcely
trodden, and slept, or lay awake shivering, with boots in
the embers and half-frozen bodies radiating like spokes
from the hub of crackling fire, while the smoke, which was
sharp with the sting of the resin, curled about them. Ing-
leby's shoulders bled daily and troubled him seriously in
the frost at night, a seam of his boot had fretted a raw place
across his foot, and in the bitter mornings the cold struck
deep and keen. Twelve pounds more count for a good deal
when the burden is already all that its bearer is fit to carry,
and the effort drained the store of heat in his worn-out
body and left nothing for the up-keep of its vitality. That
heat is the source of energy everybody knows, but only those
who have taxed every muscle in the cold of the Northwest

290 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

realize the fact's full significance. The man who has tried
his strength too hard in the Arctic frost may char his boots
in the camp-fire, but he cannot get warm. To add to his
troubles, Ingleby had no proper mittens, and when the one
extemporized from a strip of flour-bag burst, the hand with
which he clutched the pack-straps split at every finger joint,
and at that temperature a" sore will rarely heal.

The others were not in much better condition, though day
by day the line of weary men stumbled on in a silence that
seemed the grimmer for the burst of anathemas from the
one or two of them who had to be dragged up from the fire
and brutally shaken into wakefulness when the hour to
resume the journey came. Then they came to the tre-
mendous barrier of the divide, a rampart of ice and snow
which even in summer no man new to that country would
attempt to climb.

It cost them a day to make the first thousand feet or so,
and then they lost count of the rest, during which they
dragged themselves upward from dwarf pine to pine or
crawled along scarped slopes with the peaks still above
them. They were waist-deep in snow when they crossed the
ridge through the gap of a ravine down which all the winds
of heaven apparently rioted, but they fought their way
foot by foot, and were floundering down the farther side
when Ingleby, who was staggering, grey in face, behind the
rearmost of them, lost his footing and rolled down a de-
clivity. He brought up with a crash in a juniper, and
rising, half-dazed, recovered his legitimate burden and
dragged himself on again. He could scarcely see the others,
for his head was throbbing intolerably and his sight was
dim, but it seemed to him that he was travelling a little
more easily than he had done. It was, however, not until
they lay beside a snapping fire that night with their packs
piled behind them as a barrier to the bitter wind, that the
reason for this became apparent.

"Where's that case of yours?" asked one of the men.

SNOWED IN 291

Ingleby glanced behind him, and then laid down the
blackened can of tea he held and rose unsteadily.

"You haven't got it," he asked hoarsely, "none of you?"

There was a little sardonic laughter, and one of the others
said, "I guess we've got 'most enough without humping
another case along for anybody."

"Then I must have left it where I fell into that juniper
this afternoon."

He shook his galled shoulders, which were bleeding
through the shirt that was glued to them, and he winced as
the movement tore it from the wound. Then he turned
slowly away from the fire.

"Hold on. Where are you going?" said one of the men.

"Back for the case. If I'm fortunate, I may make camp
before you start to-morrow."

He stopped for just a moment, and looked back at the
fire with a fierce physical longing in his eyes, for all that
was animal in him craved for food and the rest of repletion.
Sewell, he saw, was lying half-asleep, with a partly con-
sumed flapjack fallen from his hand.

"Now, see here," said somebody, "we can't wait for you.
Unless we get down out of the frost into thick timber by
to-morrow night, ifs quite likely one or two of us will stay
up here altogether. You've got a straight warning. Let
the blame thing go."

Ingleby said nothing. He knew that if he dallied his
flesh would master him, and he limped out of the firelight
with a groan. The red flicker faded suddenly, and he was
alone on a great sloping waste where a few dwarf firs and
junipers were scattered, black as ink on a ground of blink-
ing white, under the big coppery moori. There was a pain
in every joint, the rag wound about one hand was stiff, and
he dare not move his shoulders now, while at every step the
torturing boot ate into his flesh. That was all he remem-
bered, for he could never recall afterwards much of what
he felt and did that night.

292 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He was not back at the camp next morning, and when
his comrades had waited an hour or two they moved on
slowly without him. One can live in the open under a
greater cold than they were called upon to face, that is, if
one is provided with costly furs and sleeping bags to suit it ;
but there are reasons why the prospector usually has
neither, and there was no more endurance left in the men.
Tngleby, however, would, at least, have no difficulty in
picking up their trail, and unless they made shelter that
night it seemed very probable that some of them would
freeze. They found it at the foot of the mountain wall in
a thick belt of young firs where the jumper-sledges and two
or three axes had been left, and that night they lay in com-
fort about the fire with a kettle of strong green tea in their
midst, and the springy cedar and spruce twigs piled high
about them. Two of them, however, were not there, for
Sewell had gone back in search of Ingleby.

It was snowing a little, and there was no moon visible,
while, though the rest of the journey down the valley would,
by comparison, be easy, now they had the sledges, the men
were curiously silent as they lay about the fire. Nobody
seemed disposed to sleep, and the kettle had been emptied
when one of them glanced round at the rest.

"If he doesn't come in by to-morrow I'm going back,"
he said.

"I guess it mightn't be much use to-morrow," said a
comrade. "If I could get a move on me I'd go to-night,
but I'm not sure I can. What d'you say Tie' for, anyway ?
There's two of them."

The men were dead-weary, too dazed with fatigue almost
to think. Nor was there one of them anxious to make the
effort, which if successful might drag him from his rest.
Thus they were willing to be led away from the point at
issue, which was what might have happened to Ingleby.

"Well," said the first speaker, "Sewell's a smart man,
and he means well, but I hadn't quite remembered him.

SNOWED IN 293

When I was broke, and hadn't a dollar's worth of dust to get
the truck I had to have from the freighter, Ingleby went
bond for me. He don't know a good deal more than he has
any use for, like the other man, but he's there when he's
wanted. That's the kind he is. I'll give him another half-
hour. Then I'm going back for him."

There was a drowsy murmur of concurrence. Sewell was
liked in the Green Kiver valley, and no man doubted his
sincerity ; but that was, after all, not quite enough, for it is,
though somewhat difficult of comprehension, a fact that
the dwellers in the wilderness, who see fewer of their fel-
lowmen, have usually a clearer insight into the primitive
essentials of human character than the men of the cities.
They do not ask too much of it, but on certain points their
demand is inexorable, and it is very seldom that a simply
meretricious quality goes far with them. Ingleby was not
a genius, he blundered in details, and he had few graces;
but they believed in him.

The half-hour had almost passed when one of them
sharpty raised his head, and, though few other men would
probably have heard anything, the rest shook themselves
to attention. High up on the range above them there was
a soft pattering in the snow, which grew louder, until they
could hear two men stumbling down the steep hillside.
After that there was a snapping of twigs among the firs,
and Sewell strode into the red light with his hand on
Ingleby's shoulder. The latter's face was grey, and he stag-
gered until somebody seized him and dragged him down
beside the fire. Then he blinked at them out of half-closed
eyes.

"I got the case," he said.

"That's all right," said a man soothingly as he loosed the
straps about his shoulders and lifted the case aside, but
Ingleby turned upon him savagely.

"Put it there, you! I want to see it. It's hers,"

he said.

294 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

His voice was strained and broken, and Sewell did not
hear all he said.

"Get him some tea and flapjacks. I think he's a little
off his head/' he said.

XXIX

ESMOND'S HANDS AEE TIED

r> EACE COULTHURST had not long cleared the even-
^^ ing meal away, but she was already waiting Esmond's
departure with an impatience which was somewhat difficult
to hold in check. He had come across from the outpost
while she was occupied with the task, and that in itself
would have been sufficient to displease her, but there were
also other causes for the strain upon her temper. Miss
Coulthurst had not expected to fare luxuriously in the
Green River country and had hitherto borne the necessary
discomforts exceptionally well; but of late she had been
actually hungry, which, in her case, was as unpleasant as
it was unusual.

There was still a store of flour and salt-pork in the Gold
Commissioner's house, but there was practically nothing
else, and the pork was rancid, while Grace had a very rudi-
mentary acquaintance with the art of cookery. As one
result of this, she had risen unsatisfied from each untempt-
ing meal, and, brought up as she had been, the deprivation
had its effect on her physical nature, though she felt the
isolation which had succeeded the blockade even more. Of
late the company of Ingleby or Sewell had become almost a
necessity, while she had naturally not seen either of them
since the miners made their protest. Coulthurst had also
been a trifle difficult to get on with. He was not addicted
to indulgence, but neither was he particularly abstemious,
and tea brewed from leaves which had been infused once or

295

296 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

twice already was not a beverage he appreciated or one that
tended to make him more companionable.

He lay somewhat wearily in a big deck-chair beside the
stove with an unlighted cigar in his hand, while Esmond
sat opposite him with an unpleasant look in his face.

"There is nothing to be gained by hiding the fact that
I'm a little anxious about the state of affairs, sir," he said.
"The scoundrelly miners are still apparently as far from
giving in as ever, and, unpleasant as it is to admit, they
have the upper hand."

"It looks like it," said the major drily. "I suppose you
haven't thought of making a compromise? Nobody's hurt
as yet, and I fancy they would be satisfied if you met them
with regard to Tomlinson. You're not bound to send a
man up for trial unless it's reasonably evident that he's
guilty, and I don't believe Tomlinson did the thing, my-
self. Couldn't you hold a kind of informal inquiry, and
give the boys an opportunity for proving him innocent ?"

A vindictive sparkle crept into Esmond's eyes. "And
permit a rabble of that kind to teach me my duty? I'm
afraid not. Even if I wasn't sure the man was guilty,
which I am, the thing would be out of the question."

"You feel warranted in calling all of them. — rabble?"
asked Grace.

"I do. Every one of them. Their leaders, in particular,
belong to that most intolerable class to be found anywhere
— the half-taught proletariat, with just enough education
to increase their natural unpleasantness and inspire them
with a hatred of their superiors. That, however, is not
quite the point."

The blood rose to the girl's face, but remembering that
the major occasionally displayed some little penetration
she contrived to keep silent, though this was by no means
easy. Coulthurst, however, nodded.

"I scarcely think it is," he said, with a trace of dryness.
"As I pointed out once before, you do not seem to remem-

ESMOND'S HANDS ARE TIED 297

her that I occasionally had Mr. Sewell and Ingleby
here."

"I'm afraid I didn't — I'm sorry, sir," said Esmond.
" Of course, I should have done so. One could almost have
fancied that they were here frequently."

Again Grace said nothing, though it cost her a stronger
effort, and the major did not appear to notice the younger
man's sardonic smile.

"Since you don't seem to care for my suggestion, have
you any notions of your own ?"

"I haven't, which is partly why I came to you. If I
could only find a way of getting word to Victoria and a few
more troopers in, it would be easy to bring them to reason.
As it is, I have sense enough to realize that nobody would
thank me for forcing a contest that could only end in dis-
aster and the subsequent sending up of a battalion of Cana-
dian militia. The miners are twenty to one, you see."

Again Coulthurst nodded. "You are right in one re-
spect," he said. "Personally, I shouldn't care to under-
take the thing with less than three or four strong com-
panies, and I'm not sure I could get in then. Well, since
a compromise appears out of the question, you can only
wait events."

"That is the difficulty. I can't wait too long. We're
on full rations still, but stores are getting low and certainly
won't last until the thaw sets in. Of course, if affairs had
been different, I could have hired enough of the fellows to
break out a trail."

Perhaps the major did not intend it, but he looked at
Grace, and saw comprehension of his thoughts in her eyes.
They were not on full rations, or anything approaching it,
at the Gold Commissioner's house, and a few of the com-
forts Esmond could have spared would have been worth a
good deal to them. He was in some respects not an un-
generous man, but though he must, Grace fancied, have
seen how meagrely they fared, such a course had evidently

298 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

never suggested itself to him, and in that fact lay the sting.
He rose to go, in another minute or two, but just then
there was a knocking at the door, which swung open a mo-
ment later, and Grace gasped as she saw Ingleby standing
on the threshold with a heavy case in his hands.

His garments were ragged, and his gauntness showed
through them. His face was worn, and darkened by ex-
posure to the frost, but his eyes were steady, and he glanced
at the girl with a smile. There was a curious silence for
a moment or two until he turned to the major.

"May I come in, sir?" he asked.

Coulthurst regarded him sternly. "You could scarcely
expect me to welcome a man in arms against his country."

"No," said Ingleby. "Not as a friend. That would
be unreasonable. Still, I have a little explanation to make,
and it is a bitter night to keep the door open. With your
permission !"

He swung round and closed it, after which he laid down
the case, and Grace felt a thrill of appreciation as she
watched him. His self-possession appealed to her.

"You have come — alone?" asked the major.

"Of course!" said Ingleby.

Esmond smiled, though there was no good-humour in
his eyes, and, as if inadvertently, dropped his hand on his
hip. His uniform was raised a trifle there, in a fashion
which suggested that a pistol lay beneath it.

"Wasn't that a little rash?" he asked. "Can you point
out any reason why I shouldn't arrest you ?"

"I fancy I can," and Ingleby made a gesture of im-
patience. "For one thing, if you attempted to lay hands
on me or reached for your pistol I should fling you out into
the snow. That, of course, isn't in good taste to say in
another man's house; but it may save everybody unpleasant-
ness, and, in any case, I'm one of the proletariat from
whom too much is not expected."

There was a harshness in his voice and a glow in his

ESMOND'S HANDS ARE TEED 299

eyes which seemed to indicate that he was perfectly willing
to make his promise good, while, though his attitude was
certainly not all that conventionality demanded, it was, at
least, natural in the circumstances, and Grace was not dis-
pleased by it. Esmond, perhaps because he recognized the
necessity for displaying his superior training, kept his
temper, and Coulthurst watched them both, with a little
grim smile.

" I haven't the least intention of indulging in an exhibi-
tion of that kind, which would be quite unnecessary," said
the police officer. "There is a trooper within call who has
a carbine."

"I saw him, though, being a policeman on duty, he nat-
urally did not see me. What would you gain by calling
him?"

"I think he and I between us could take you to the
outpost."

"You might. I haven't a weapon of any kind with me,
but what then? Two of my comrades know where I am,
and you would have thirty or forty armed miners inquiring
for me before morning. It is, of course, quite plain that
you can't afford to force an outbreak of that kind."

Esmond realized that this was true. Ingleby, it was
evident, held the cards and, was quite aware of it. He
wisely said nothing, though his face grew hot, and there
was a wicked look in his eyes. Then Ingleby turned to
the major again.

"What I have to say is not in the least important, and
will not keep you a minute, sir," he said. "Still, there
are reasons why I would sooner Captain Esmond didn't
hear it."

"I believe he was going when you came in," said Coul-
thurst reflectively.

The hint was plain enough, and Esmond moved towards
the door, while Ingleby, who stood between him and his
fur-coat, handed the coat to him. Then as the officer went

300 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

out he lifted a partly-filled flour-bag in from the veranda,
and, when he had closed the door, laid it with the case on
the table.

"Won't you sit down?" Grace said quietly.

Ingleby looked at Coulthurst. "I scarcely think Major
Coulthurst would object to anything you suggest, but I am
in his hands."

"Sit down — and be hanged to you!" said the major,
whose face grew suddenly red. "Do you suppose I enjoy
the position you have forced me into ?"

Ingleby did as he was bidden. "I came across this case
at the settlement, sir, and was told it was for you. From
what the storekeeper said I fancied Miss Coulthurst would
be pleased to have it, and that you wouldn't mind my bring-
ing it up with me."

"You were at the settlement ?" and Coulthurst glanced at
him almost incredibly. "Perhaps you know Esmond sent
down two or three troopers, and they couldn't face the
snow?"

"Yes, sir. You will probably understand why I pre-
ferred not to mention it in Captain Esmond's presence."

"The box is proof that you were there — but how the
devil you managed it is more than I know. The troopers
certainly couldn't."

"They didn't go the right way," said Ingleby drily.

"Then there is another one?" and Coulthurst flashed a
sharp glance at him.

"As a very little reflection would show j'ou that there
must be, there is no use in running away from the question.
Besides, I feel I'm safe in your hands, and, while circum-
stances continue as they are, Captain Esmond couldn't
profit by any conclusions you might come to. Shall I open
the case for you, sir?"

The major made a little sign, and Ingleby, crossing to
the hearth, picked up the rock-drill, which served as poker,
and contrived to prize up the lid with it.

ESMOND'S HANDS ARE TIED 301

It was a trifling action, but it was characteristic; and
Grace noticed that he made use of the thing that was
nearest without troubling anybody to find him a more
suitable implement. Then he laid out the contents of the
box upon the table, and the girl's face softened as she
watched him. The little comforts in themselves were worth
a good deal to her just then, but the fact that he had
thought of her was worth far more. The major, however,
appeared a trifle disappointed, and she fancied she knew
what he was looking for. Ingleby seemed to know it, too,
for there was a suggestion of a smile in his eyes. Leaning
one elbow on the table she looked at him with her rounded
chin in the palm of one hand.

"Whichever way you went you must have crossed the
range," she said. "That box was heavy. How did you
carry it ?"

"On my back," said Ingleby. "That is the usual way.
We had sold all the horses off to the freighter for a few
dollars quite a while ago. Of course, as I hadn't asked
your permission, it was a liberty."

Grace made a little gesture. "What did }7ou go down
to the settlement for ?"

"Provisions."

"But nobody could carry many of them over the moun-
tains."

"I think I managed forty pounds,"' said Ingleby in-
cautiously. "Most of the boys had considerably more."

The clear rose colour crept into Grace's cheeks, and she
did not trouble to prevent his seeing it. She knew what
the simple admission meant, and that it must have cost
him toil incredible to make that journey with a double
burden. It was for her he had borne it.

"And the box?" she asked.

Ingleby's embarrassment was evident, and she turned to
the major with a curious little laugh and a faint ring in
her voice.

302 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Do you understand what Mr. Ingleby has done?" she
said. "He has carried that box besides his own load up
from the settlement — over the mountains — so that we
should not suffer for anything."

Coulthurst also appeared embarrassed. In fact, his face
was distinctly red. "I'm very much obliged to him," he
said. "It's devilishly unfortunate you got drawn into that
outpost business, Ingleby. Excuse me, Grace, it is — un-
fortunate. Can't you see how you have placed me? As
a man who has served his nation, even though he has been
kicked for it, I can't very well "

He stopped a moment, still a trifle flushed, and then
broke into a little laugh. "Well," he said, "you're too
strong for me — I'll capitulate. You know the ground I
; ought to take as well as I do; but it's more than could
reasonably be expected of any man, under the circum-
stances. Still, that storekeeper fellow might have put in
something a little more exhilarating than tea."

Ingleby opened the flour-bag with something as nearly
approaching a grin on his gaunt face as was compatible
with the deferential attitude he had assumed.

"I feel a little diffident about the next proceeding, sir,"
he said. "In fact, it is a piece of almost intolerable pre-
sumption on the part of a man setting constituted authority
at defiance, as I'm afraid I am. Still, you see, people must
eat and drink, in any case."

He took two carefully wrapped bottles out of the bag,
and the major's eyes twinkled, while as he spread out the
rest of its contents Grace felt her heart grow very soft
towards him. He had, it seemed, thought of everything
that could minister to her comfort. Then she saw that he
had guessed what she was thinking, and his honest)' became
apparent.

"The storekeeper had his wife there," he said. "I had
a little talk with her."

"It is to be hoped she didn't drink whisky of that kind,"

ESMOND'S HANDS ARE TIED 303

said the major, with a chuckle. "You couldn't get any-
thing better in a Montreal club."

Ingleby laughed. "I fancy some of my comrades have
belonged to associations of the kind, and a good many of
them have cultivated tastes," he said. "As a matter of
fact, they can afford them."

"Will you be good enough to tell me how much those
things cost?" asked the major.

"If you insist. In fact, there's an invoice here. Still,
after the little kindnesses you have shown me I would much
sooner not let you see it."

Coulthurst looked at him sharply, and then, reaching out,
laid his hand upon the grocery bill. After that he rose and
went into the adjoining room, and when he came back
he handed Ingleby a cheque on a Vancouver bank. Grace
watched the miner curiously as he did so.

"Now you have relieved your feelings, sir, I can make
what use I like of what is my own," he said.

He crossed the room and flung the paper into the fire,
then turned with a little smile to the major. It was a
bold step, and the boldness of it appealed to the girl. She
understood it as an assertion of equality, something he
owed to himself, and withal it was done with deference and
not aggressively. For a moment Coulthurst gazed at him
in astonishment. Then he laughed, and made a little sign
of comprehension.

"I'm not sure I've met many young men with nerve
enough to do that, but I think you're right," he said. "I
was pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ingleby — and
it is, perhaps, not altogether your fault that the present
unfortunate circumstances must necessarily lead to a tem-
porary break in it."

Ingleby made him a little grave inclination. "I under-
stand, sir, and there is only one thing I would like to ask,"
he said. "We may make some suggestions shortly for a
compromise, and, in view of Captain Esmond's tempera-

SOI DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

ment — and our own — they might be considered more dis-
passionately if passed through a third party. Would you
be willing to receive Sewell here?"

He was evidently about to go, and Coulthurst held out
his hand. "Send him as soon as you can. If your ideas
are reasonable, I'll do my utmost with Esmond. This state
of affairs can't go on."

Ingleby turned towards the door, but Grace, who was
waiting, opened it for him, and let her hand rest in his a
moment.

"Walter," she said very softly, "it was exactly what I
would have expected from you."

Ingleby did not think it advisable to turn round, but he
gripped the little fingers hard as he passed out into the
darkness.

XXX

SEWELI/S DOWNFALL

C EWELL went to Major Coulthurst's the following night,
and remained some time in conference with him. He
also went there a day or two later to hear Esmond's answer
to the suggestions he had conveyed, and when it was deliv-
ered he found himself no nearer a compromise. There was
not a man in the valley who would agree to what the police
officer demanded ; and though Sewell went back with some-
what modified proposals from time to time, affairs dragged
on at a deadlock, while each party hoped to starve the other
into surrender.

The miners could with difficulty have obtained a tem-
porary and insufficient supply of provisions, but fearing
that Esmond would be driven to action, their leaders were
dubious about sending any number of their men away again.
It was a game of bluff they were playing, and it had
dragged out much longer than any of them had anticipated,
while all could recognize that it was only by holding com-
mand of such a force as would render hopeless any attempt
to drive them from their barricade that they could avoid
an actual recourse to arms, which must eventually prove
disastrous to them.

Finally, after a meeting of all concerned, Sewell was dis-
patched again with what practically amounted to an ulti-
matum, and on the evening on which he was to deliver it
he and Ingleby and Leger discussed the affair at the bakery.
Hetty was not present, for though they were on short

305

306 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

rations, she had gone up the valley with one or two little
dainties she had contrived to make for Tomlinson. He
had been a strong and healthy man, but wounds, com-
plicated by comminuted bones, give trouble in the cold of
that country, and the very indifferent food had further
militated against his recovery. Sewell stood ready to set
out, Ingleby and Leger sat by the hearth, and there was
anxiety in the faces of all of them.

"I'm afraid it's a fool's errand I'm going on," said
Sewell. "It is, of course, useless to threaten to seize the
outpost when Esmond must realize that we have no inten-
tion of doing it. The thing's out of the question. It was
all very well to block the troopers out, but if we shot one of
them it would bring every policeman in the country, and,
if necessary, the whole Canadian militia, down upon our
heads."

"It's almost a pity you didn't realize that before," said
Leger.

Sewell made a little gesture which might have expressed
anything. "Mutual recriminations seldom do much good,
and I scarcely think any one would have expected Esmond
to hold out as he has done. I met one of the troopers the
last time I went to Coulthurst's, and he admitted that they
were practically starving. It was a bluff we put up, but
we made the mistake of assuming that the opposition had
less nerve than we had. After all, it's not a very uncom-
mon one."

"Are you quite sure it was only bluff when you began ?"
asked Leger quietly.

Sewell started, almost imperceptibly, but Leger saw it,
and even Ingleby, who would have believed in him in spite
of everything, fancied that there was embarrassment in his
face.

"Circumstances alter cases, and I've learnt a little about
British official inertia since I've been up here," he said.
"It's rather a big contract to dictate terms to the Dominion

SEWELL'S DOWNFALL 307

of Canada when we have failed to make any great impres-
sion on one police officer. Anyway, I may as well get on
to the commissioner's. Neither of us is, I fancy, in the
most amiable temper."

He went ont, and Ingleby looked at Leger, who shook
his head.

"He's quite right, Walter. It's too big a thing for us,
and we have failed," he said. "If it comes to the worst
and Esmond goes down, he'll beat us still."

Ingleby said nothing, though his face grew grim, and
Leger continued with a little dry smile, "Sewell will do
no good. It's almost a pity we hadn't chosen another man.
His heart isn't in the thing."

"You can say that — when you know his record?" and
there was a flash of anger in Ingleby's eyes.

"Don't misunderstand me. Sewell will not actually play
us false. He is, of course, a much more brilliant man than
either of us, and he'll handle our case with his usual ability.
Still, that is scarcely enough, and one has to admit that it's
a poor one intrinsically. We started with the mistake of
taking it for granted that Esmond could be bluffed."

"I'm not sure that we did. To be correct, I started the
thing without thinking of anything. Anyway, you believed
as firmly as the rest of us in Sewell and that the men here
and at Westerhouse could make a stand that would result in
their getting what they wanted."

Leger sat silent a moment or two. "Perhaps I did,
though I think I saw the weak points of the scheme clearly.
They, however, didn't count for so much then. Nobody,
you see, can put a big thing through by working it all out
logically beforehand. It appears all difficulties if you look
at it that way. One has to take his chances with the faith
that attempts the impossible and the fire that carries him
through an obstacle before he realizes that it is one. Sewell
had the faith and the fire, and the trouble is that he hasn't

308 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

now. There has been a big change in the man since he came
into the Green River country."

Ingleby could not controvert this, but it was evident
to Leger, who watched him closely, that he had still full
confidence in Sewell, and was as far as ever from guessing
at any reason that might account for the change in him.

"Well," he said slowly, "we can't back down now. "What
are we to do ?"

'*Go on. Play the game out to the bitter end. I think
you know that as well as I do."

The little sign Ingleby made seemed to imply that there
was nothing more to be said.

"Isn't it time Hetty was back?" he asked.

He opened the door, and the cqld struck through him
like a knife. There was not a breath of wind astir, and
the pines cut sharp and black against the luminous blueness
of the night without the faintest quiver of a spray, for
that afternoon an Arctic frost had descended upon the
valley.

"I'll go along and meet her," he said.

It was ten minutes later when he did so. She was plod-
ding somewhat wearily up the climbing trail, a shapeless
figure in a big blanket-coat, and she took his arm and leaned
upon it. It occurred to him that Hetty l*ad lost some of her
brightness, and had been looking a little worn of late ; but
that was not astonishing, since the scanty food and strain of
anxiety were telling upon everybody in the Green Eiver
valley. It was also a long way from the baker}' to the hut
where Tomlinson still lay helpless, and Ingleby felt very
compassionate as the girl, who said very little, walked by
his side. When at last he opened the door for her she
sank into the nearest chair and turned to him with a curi-
ously listless gesture.

"Keep it open — wide," she said.

Ingleby understood her, for the little room was very
hot, and the sudden change of temperature from the frost

SEWELL'S DOWNFALL 309

of the Northwest had once or twice painfully affected him.
Then as he turned again he heard a faint cry and saw
Hetty clutch at the table. In another moment her chair
went over with a crash, and he caught her as she fell.

"No !" said Leger sharply. "Don't try to lift her. Lay
her flat."

Ingleby stupidly did as he was bidden, and when Hetty
lay at his feet, a pitiful, huddled object with blanched
hands and face, beneath the snow-sprinkled coat, he felt an
unnerving thrill of apprehension run through him as he
looked down at her. Leger, however, kept his head.

"I don't think there's anything to be afraid of, but we
must get these things loose about her neck," he said.
"Undo that hook while I lift her head a little. It's pressed
right into her throat."

Ingleby dropped on one knee, and with clumsy fingers
loosed the blanket-cloak. Then he stopped a moment, and
glanced at Leger, who had slipped one arm under Hetty.
As she lay, her garments were drawn tight about her neck
and shoulders.

"Go on!" said Leger sharply. "Get that collar undone.
Be quick. The thing is choking her."

Ingleby loosed the collar, though the blood crept to his
face as the bodice fell apart from Hetty's white neck. Leger
was, however, not contented yet.

"Pull those hooks out, or cut the stuff," he said. "What
— are — you stopping for?"

Ingleby got the hooks out, that is, one or two of them,
and then he stopped again, while Leger saw the narrow
black ribbon pressed into the white flesh upon which his
eyes were fixed.

" I don't know what that is, but pull it out," he said. "If
you can't get it loose, cut the thing."

Ingleby did as he was bidden, but there was no need to
use the knife, for, as Leger moved his arm a little, the
ribbon slackened, and a little trumpery locket which, as

310 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Ingleby knew, was not even of high-carat gold, slid out
and lay on Hetty's breast. As he saw it all the blood in
his body seemed to rush into his face. Leger, however,
apparently did not notice that.

"Get me the old jacket yonder. I want it under her
shoulders," he said.

Ingleby got it and then stood leaning on the table, while
Leger still knelt by his sister's side. His face was set and
anxious, but it was evident that he was equal to the occa-
sion, and had not let his apprehensions master him. It
was, however, different with Ingleby, for now there was no
longer anything to do he felt that he was quivering.

"I'll run for the American who's looking after Tom-
linson," he said.

Leger made a little sign. "No. Don't go. I may want
you. She'll come round in a minute or two. This room
must have been seventy, and outside it's forty below. Where
has your nerve gone?"

Ingleby did not know. It had, however, certainly de-
serted him, and he felt for once scarcely capable of doing
anything as he leaned upon the table. Then Leger, who
slipped the locket back beneath the dress, looked up at him.

"She mightn't like to think we had seen it, and, of
course, I didn't know what the thing was," he said, and then
added, without moving his eyes from Ingleby, "I wonder
where she got it?"

Ingleby said nothing, though he knew. He had bought
her the little trinket in England long ago, but it seemed to
him that Hetty might not like her brother to know it.
Apart from that, he was scarcely sensible of anything
clearly, for he was overwhelmed by a horrible confusion,
and he looked down at Leger vacantly until a little shiver
seemed to run through the girl.

"Now see if you can find the coffee," said his comrade
sharply. "There is a little somewhere. We have nothing
else to give her."

SEWELL'S DOWNFALL 311

Ingleby waited another moment until he saw a faint
tinge of colour creep into Hetty's face, and then he moved
towards the box of stores, dazed from relief. He was busy
for a moment or two, and when he turned again Hetty was
lying in the low hide-chair with her brother's arm about her
and the blanket-coat clutched closely to her neck. Leger
flashed a swift glance at him and pointed towards tho door.

"I think it would be better if you got out of this," he
said.

Ingleby also thought so and went forthwith. He felt
that he could not meet Hetty's eyes just then, and he
wanted to be alone and get rid of the almost insufferable
confusion that afflicted him. He had never made love to
Hetty. They had been comrades, almost as brother and
sister to each other ; but she had worn his locket hidden on
her breast, which was, he surmised, considerably more than
a sister would have done. Brotherly tenderness could also,
he realized, scarcely account for the uneasiness he had felt
and the relief that had replaced it; but it appeared quite
out of the question — in fact, a thought to shrink from —
that he could be in love with two women. It was as un-
pleasant to contemplate the probability of two women being
in love with him. He could find no solution of the prob-
lem as he swung along beneath the solemn pines, and when
he reached his black and silent shanty his brain was still in
a whirl. One thing alone was clear to him, and that was
that Hetty was alive and apparently recovering.

In the meanwhile Sewell found that Coulthurst, who, it
seemed, had gone across to the outpost, had not yet come
home. Grace told him so standing in the doorway, with the
sweeping lines of her figure cut in black against the light,
and though she could see the admiration in his face he could
not see her curious little smile. Miss Coulthurst had de-
cided that the struggle between the miners and their rulers
had continued long enough, and it was time she made some
attempt to put an end to it.

312 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"Still, I really think you might come in," she said. "He
will be back before very long."

Sewell came in, and sat down opposite her across the
hearth, and Grace glanced covertly at her little watch
which hung upon the wall. Major Coulthurst was punc-
tuality in itself, and she realized that she had about twenty
minutes in which to do a good deal. Ingleby's devotion to
her — and it was, perhaps, significant that she felt that was
the best description of it — was evident; but there were
points on which he was as unyielding and impervious to
suggestion as a rock; while Sewell, with his more delicately
balanced nature and wider grasp of comprehension, was, in
her hands, at least, as malleable clay.

"How long is this very unpleasant state of affairs to
continue, Mr. Sewell?" she asked. "You promised me we
should have quietness this winter."

Sewell made a little deprecatory gesture. "Circum-
stances were too strong for me, but I have done what I
could. Unpleasant as things are, they might be worse —
considerably."

"It is a little difficult to see how they could be."

She had straightened herself a little, and sat looking at
him with a certain quiet and half-scornful imperiousness
which she knew became her, and yet was not altogether
affected. Sewell, the democrat, understood exactly what
she meant, and knew that it was not the loneliness or physi-
cal discomfort the blockade entailed that she was tb inking
of. It was the humbling of the pride of the ruling caste
to which she belonged, and the bold denial of its prerogative
of authority, that she felt the most. It was curious that
he could understand this and sympathize with her as
Ingleby, who only saw and did the obvious thing, could
not have done.

"Well," he said, "I think this winter might have seen
an undreamt-of overturning of constituted authority and
the setting up of what you were once pleased to call a

SEWELL'S DOWNFALL 313

■visionary Utopia. My comrades were almost ready to un-
dertake it a little while ago. In fact, they only wanted
somebody to show them how."

Grace laughed a careless, silvery laugh, which would have
been wasted on Ingleby. There was no scorn in it now,
only amusement, but Sewell nodded comprehendingly as
he looked up at her.

"Your friends would naturally never believe it, but I
almost think the inauguration of the Utopia would have
been possible," he said. "At least, we could have cleared
the ground for it."

"There are," said Grace suggestively, "men enough in
this valley to make about one company."

"And between here and the Arctic sea enough to make
such a small army-corps of marchers and marksmen as no
country has ever enrolled beneath its banner. A very
little spark in the right place will kindle a great blaze, you
know; but I only want to show you that the thing might
have happened. I scarcely think you need expect it now."

Grace looked at him with a curious intensity. "Then,"
she said, "you were afraid?"

"No," answered Sewell slowly. "I was not sure I was
strong enough to control the forces I could set in motion, or
that the result of unloosing them would be — Utopia. It
seemed too big a risk. That was one reason — you can, per-
haps, guess the other. After all, one has to admit that
there are certain advantages attached to the direction of
affairs by the more highly trained divisions of society."

"To which," said Grace, with a soft laugh, "you, of
course, belong. What made — you — a democrat?"

Sewell made a little gesture. "Ah," he said, "that is
a different story, and one I hardly care to go into, but
perhaps the instincts one is born with can't be entirely
rooted out. I am, at least, not the iconoclast I was when
I came into the valley. That, however, really isn't very
Astonishing. I now have a good deal to lose."

314. DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He looked at her steadily with grave deference, but as
like to like, and the girl recognized this and what his words
implied. She was, however, playing a game then, and
another swift glance at her watch showed her that she had
little time in which to finish it.

"And so, for fear you should lose it, you did not strike
the spark? Well, I think that was wise. It would cer-
tainly have cost you one thing which you seem to value,"
she said.

This was vague, but it seemed to Sewell that there could
be only one meaning to it. What he had feared to lose
was not yet beyond his reach. He did not know that there
were in the girl qualities which would have made her a
successful Pompadour. Just then her craving for influence
was irresistible ; but she swept away from the topic with a
swift smile expressive only of the indifference which of all
the feelings that she could show he most shrank from.

"Still, to be practical, how could the blaze have spread?"
she said. "It would have smouldered out in one snow-
bound valley, and in the spring there would have been a
very inglorious downfall to the strictly limited Utopia."

Sewell was nettled. There was, though it was seldom
apparent, vanity in him, as both Hetty and Grace had
guessed. Her blame he could have borne, but there was
a sting in her smile. That she should think him a vision-
ary schemer led away by his imagination, and without the
faculty of execution, hurt him.

"The blaze would have leapt the snowy barriers," he
said. "In fact, that was all arranged. Then it would have
flashed from range to range across to the Yukon. One
tolerably big bonfire has been waiting some time ready for
lighting. I had only to send the message. I think you
know why I didn't."

Grace saw his eyes, and understood the look in them.
It was suggestive of passionate admiration. She also knew
that a word would dispel it, perhaps forever, but she was

SEWELL'S DOWNFALL 315

lost in the game now, and what the man might think of her
afterwards did not matter.

"Then there is a road out — beside the one you made to
the settlement? It must be to Westerhouse?" she said.

"Yes," answered Sewell simply. "I have been there."

Grace had just five minutes left, and a task before her
which, under ordinary circumstances, she could scarcely
have expected to accomplish ; but she had to deal with a man
who was, after all, of her own caste, a man with a deep
vein of vanity in him, who was also in love with her. The
latter fact had been apparent for some little while, and she
let him see now that she recognized it, while during the next
few minutes she used every attribute with which Nature had
endowed her, as well as art of a very delicate description.
In fact, Grace had never until then exactly realized her own
capabilities.

Neither Sewell nor she could afterwards remember all
that she said, and in fact she said very little, though that
little was suggestive; there was no great need for a girl
with her patrician beauty to waste words unduly when
«he had her eyes. In any case, Sewell was as wax beneath,
her hands, and when she had finished with him she knew
that the mountain barrier between the Green Kiver country
and Westerhouse was not impassable, and how the one
gorge ran that traversed it. If Sewell fancied she appre-
ciated the passion which had led him to do so much for her,
that was his affair. There was, however, a curious glow
in his eyes when he rose as the major came in.

XXXI

BROKEN IDOLS

/^OULTHTJRST sat with a big hand clenched on the
table and a grim look in his face when Sewell left
him, nor did he turn his head until Grace, who came softly
•ut of the inner room, sat down close by him.

"You can't come to terms, father?" she said.

"We can't," and there was an ominous sparkle in Coul-
thurst's eyes. "I'm not sure that I wish to now. In fact,
I've borne quite as much as I'm willing to put up with from
koth of them, and there's some reason, after all, in Es-
mond's plan. He'll give them another week, and then we'll
cut our way in."

"It's not your affair," and Grace started visibly. "You
are the Gold Commissioner."

Coulthurst smiled. "I am also entitled to the rank of
major, and that, after all, means a good deal."

Grace mastered her apprehension, for she realized the
major's point of view and indeed concurred with it.

"There is no other way than the one you are thinking
of?" she asked.

"There are two," said Coulthurst drily. "We can sit
still and starve, or march out and leave the valley in the
possession of the miners while we try to break through the
snow. Neither of them, however, commends itself to Es-
mond or me."

"Of course!" said Grace, with a little flush in her face,
which, however, faded suddenly. "But suppose one or two

816

BROKEN IDOLS 317

of the troopers were killed while you forced the barri-
cade?"

"Then," said Coulthurst, "our friends Ingleby and
Sewell would certainly be hung."

The major's terseness was more convincing than a great
deal of argument, and Grace saw what she must do. The
pride of station was strong in her, so strong, in fact, that
she would never have come down to Ingleby's level. It
was only because he had shown that he could force his way
to hers — at least, as it was likely to be regarded in that
country — that she had listened to him. When the grapple
became imminent that pride alone would have driven her
to take part with constituted authority instead of what she
considered the democratic rabble. Then there was the peril
to her father and to Ingleby. He must be saved — against
himself, if it should be necessary.

"There are troopers at Westerhouse across the moun-
tains ?" she asked.

"I believe there is a strong detachment and a very
capable officer."

Grace sat silent a moment before she spoke again.
"Father," she said, "I want you to make a bargain with
Eeggie Esmond for me. On two conditions I am willing
to tell you how he can bring those troopers in. You are to
be the Gold Commissioner and peacemaker, but nothing
else. As there will be two police officers, they will not want
you as major. Then there must be an indemnity for Mr.
Sewell and Ingleby."

Coulthurst gazed at her in blank astonishment. "You
are quite serious? You mean what you say?"

" Of course ! I can tell you — on those two conditions —
how to bring the "Westerhouse troopers in."

Coulthurst banged his hand down on the table. "Then
I think there will be an end of the trouble — and the affair
could be arranged to meet your views. But however did
you find the way into the Westerhouse country ?"

318 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Grace looked at him steadily, though there was W little
more colour than usual in her face. "That does not con-
cern Reggie Esmond or you. Hadn't you better go over
and see him?"

It was getting late, but Coulthurst went straightway;
and as the result of it Esmond and two troopers set out
with a hand-sled early next morning for a certain peak
that overhung a gorge through the barrier-range that cut
off the Westerhouse country. He could not pass up the
valley, but that was no great matter since the peak could
be seen leagues away. It was a long journey, and he had
intended going no farther than the gorge with the troopers,
but he was not destined to get even there.

On the second day they came on a tree lying across their
path with its branches interlocked among the shattered
limbs of a neighbor so that the great trunk was sharply
tilted, an obstacle which is frequently to be met with in
that country. As the undergrowth all round was tall and
thick, Esmond and one trooper swung themselves upon
the log to see if they could find an opening, and made
their way along it until they came to a branch where the
trunk was high above the ground. The trooper crept round
it, and then, as Esmond came after him, there was a crash
and a shout, and the trooper who had stayed below saw
his officer vanish amidst the rattling twigs. It was several
minutes before they could reach him, and then he was lying,
with a grey face, and with one leg changed in its usual
contour and significantly limp. He looked up with a grin
of pain when the first trooper bent over him.

"Gone at the thigh-bone. I felt it snap," he said.
"Simpkin will get me home on the sled, but you'll go on,
Grieve, and tell Captain Slavin how we are fixed. He will
come in with every man available."

"I guess I'd better see you safe back, sir," said the
trooper.

BROKEN IDOLS 319

Esmond stared at him fiercely, though his face was awry
with pain.

"You'll go on," he said.

Then he winced, and, moving a little, fell over with his
face in the snow, and, because the boughs he had fallen
among were thick, it was two hours before the troopers
got him out and on the sled. It was not altogether aston-
ishing that they managed to compound the fracture during
the operation. After that Grieve pushed on alone, and
he was, as it happened, from the wild bush of Northern On-
tario, which, though the trees and rocks are smaller, is a
very similar country. In the meanwhile Simpkin headed
back for the valley with the sled, and it was not his fault
that three nights of bitter frost overtook him on the way.
Indeed, if he had not been an exceptionally resolute man,
inured to fatigue, it is very probable that Esmond would
have frozen before they reached the outpost. On the morn-
ing after they got there a trooper appeared before the
miners' barricade without his carbine and hailed the men
on guard.

"Have you brought along the American who fixed up
Jackson's foot when he smashed his toes, boys?" he asked.

The man who had nursed Tomlinson climbed up on the
log. "I'm here," he said. "Is anybody wanting me?"

"I guess Captain Esmond does," said the trooper. "He
fell off a log two or three days ago, and his leg-bone has
come right through. The corporal can't get it back inside
him. If you can see your way to do anything, we'd be much
obliged to you."

"Did Captain Esmond send you?"

"No, sir," said the trooper, "he didn't. He's way too
sick to worry about anything."

The American smiled at Ingleby, who stood beneath him.
"It's very probable! A compound fracture of the femur
is apt to prove rather serious at this temperature, especially
if our friend the corporal has been trying to reduce it. We

320 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

don't owe the man anything, but I guess Fd better go
along."

"Of course !" said Ingleby simply, and in another minute
the doctor was on his way to the outpost with the trooper.

It was evening when he came back with news of Es-
mond's condition, which, it appeared, was serious, and
Sewell forthwith set out for the Gold Commissioners
dwelling. He did not see Grace at all, and Coulthurst
granted him only a two minutes' interview.

"It is quite out of the question that I should worry
Captain Esmond now," he said. "Unless you are prepared
to make an unconditional surrender, which I should
strongly recommend, there is nothing I can do for you."

"That," replied Sewell, "is about the last thing we
should think of doing."

He came back, and related what had passed to Leger and
Ingleby. The latter looked thoughtful when he heard him.

"One could almost fancy by the change in his attitude
that the major had something up his sleeve," he said.

"The same thing occurred to me, though I don't see
what it could be. The accident to Esmond has probably
upset him. Anyway, we have our own course to consider

BOW."

"Since Esmond's not likely to worry us for awhile, we
had better send all the men we can spare down for pro-
visions, for one thing," said Leger.

It was decided on, and still Ingleby looked grave.

"That's all right as far as it goes, but it's only a side
* issue, after all," he said. "This state of things can't con-
tinue indefinitely, and Tomlinson doesn't seem to be getting
much better, or we could have simplified the affair by
getting him out of the valley. The winter's wearing
through, and if nothing is done before the thaw comes we'll
be in the troopers' hands. In the meanwhile there's an
unpleasant probability of the freighter or somebody else
finding his way in now we've broken out a trail. Have

BROKEN IDOLS 321

you thought about asking the boys at Westerhouse to join
us?"

"No," said Sewell, with a momentary trace of embarrass-
ment. "There are a good many reasons why it wouldn't
be convenient."

"I should like to hear one or two of them," said Leger
bluntly.

Sewell managed to think of several reasons, but none of
them appeared altogether satisfactory when his comrades
considered them. It was, however, evident that he was
determined on not sending to Westerhouse, and they had
to be content, though Leger looked very grave when the
conference broke up.

" One could almost have fancied that Sewell had lost his
nerve, and if I could send Hetty out of the valley it would
be a big weight off my mind," he said.

The same thought had occurred to Ingleby, and it
troubled him again that night as he kept his watch behind
the tree, for he could not altogether understand the tense
anxiety he felt about Hetty. She had scarcely been out of
his thoughts since the night she fainted at the bakery,
which, considering that he was in love with Grace Coul-
thurst, appeared an almost unnatural thing. There was
no doubt that he was in love with the commissioner's
daughter, he assured himself. All his hopes and projects
for the future were built upon the fact; but he was com-
mencing to realize vaguely that she appealed, for the most
part, to his intellect, while he felt for Hetty a curious,
unreasoning tenderness which was quite apart from ad-
miration of her or her qualities. He puzzled over it that
night, sitting still while the men slept about him under the
stars, and then gave it up as beyond solution when one of
them relieved him.

In the meanwhile Trooper Grieve had found the gorge
through the barrier-range, and was pushing on through
dim fir forests and over snowy hillsides for Westerhouse.

322 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Esmond lay half-insensible in the outpost, for fever and
dangerous inflammation had supervened; but nobody told
the American where the lieutenant was going when he fell
from the tree or anything about Trooper Grieve. There
was thus no apparent change in the state of affairs until
one night, when every man who could be spared was away
at the settlement, a stranger worn with travel was brought
in by two miners. Sewell was standing with the others
about the fire behind the tree, and Ingleby saw the colour
sink from his face when it was told them that the stranger
was from Westerhouse.

"You have got to do something right away," said the
visitor. "Slavin's coming in with every trooper he can
raise. He went round the way the trooper came, and I
pushed on by the trail Sewell told us of to get in ahead of
him. A few of the boys are coming along behind me."

There was a murmur of astonishment and consternation,
and then a somewhat impressive silence, which Leger broke.

" You mean that one of the Green Eiver troopers reached
Westerhouse?" he said.

"That's just what I do mean. Your man sent him."

Leger looked hard at Sewell, who stood back a little in
the shadow now.

"It isn't quite clear how he found the way, but, after all,
we needn't worry about that in the meanwhile," he said.
"You are still our acknowledged leader, Mr. Sewell. Hadn't
you better ask him a question or two ? We want to under-
stand the thing."

Sewell stood still for almost a minute, and the men, who
were tensely impatient, wondered at it and the hardness
of Leger's voice. Then he sat down on a branch where
the wood-smoke drifted between them and him.

"Try to tell us as clearly as you can what happened," he
said.

"Well," said the stranger, "one of the Green River troop-
ers came in badly played out, and when he asked us tf9ere

BROKEN IDOLS 323

the outpost was we took him along. After what you'd told
n? we guessed it meant trouble for you. It was dark then,
and one of us crawled round to the little back window ; but
a trooper came round the house, and we lit out kind of
quietly for the bush. Then a trooper started out on the
trail as hard as he could hit it, and 'bout half an hour later
Slavin came out in front of the outpost. 'I'm going away
by and by — for my health — but I've sent to Clatterton
Creek for two or three more policemen, and if you start any
blame circus while I'm away, I'll see the boys who made it
are sorry for themselves/ he said."

"The boys took it quietly?" asked Ingleby.

"Yes," said the stranger. "That's what they did. You
see, the folks in Victoria had moved on Eshelby, and the
new man was doing what he could for us within reason.
'.Anyway, we hadn't heard from you, and the boys weren't
going to make trouble for nothing when Slavin was there."

Again Leger glanced at Sewell, who said nothing, and
then made a little sign to the speaker. "Nobody would
expect it of them," he said. "Get on."

"Well," said the stranger, "when Slavin and his troopers
lit out quietly 'bout an hour after, we got our packs made
and came on after them. That is, a few of us who hadn't
struck any dirt that was worth the washing. We were
willing to take a hand in if we were wanted, because we
heard of Hall Sewell before he came to Westerhouse. If
he was in a tight place, we figured we'd stand behind him.
He'd often done what he could for men like us."

Sewell made no sign, but leaned back, a shadowy figure,
against the tree, and there was something in his silence that
set Ingleby 's nerves on edge.

"We kept 'most a league behind Slavin, and we had to
get a move on at that," continued the speaker. "He wasn't
wasting time. Then when we'd got through the range
he broke off to the north, and we figured that was the way

324 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

the trooper came. We let him go, and came right on by
the trail Sewell told us of."

"How many are there of you?" asked Leger.

"Eight. They're 'most as cleaned out of grub and
money as I am. We'd have sent you a hundred if you'd
•wanted them soon after Sewell came."

Ingleby laughed harshly, a jarring, hopeless laugh, and
there was a murmur from the men.

"Our hand's played out. The contract was too big for
us," said one of them. "What d'you figure on doing —
now — Mr. Sewell?"

Sewell rose slowly, as though it cost him an effort, and,
face to face with them, stood where the firelight fell upon
him. The bronze had faded from his cheeks, and his glance
was vacillating.

"Nothing in the meanwhile, boys," he said. "In fact,
there is nothing we can do but try to extort some trifling
concession from Slavin before we surrender to-morrow."

He stopped a moment, and looked at them with steady-
ing eyes. "If we had Westerhouse behind us I would have
asked you to make a fight for it. It would at least have
been an easy way out of the tangle for one of us — but it
would only mean useless bloodshed as it is. I can't get
you into further trouble, boys."

His voice had been growing hoarser, and there was an
uncomfortable silence when he stopped. This was not what
the men had expected, and everybody seemed to feel that
there was something wrong. Then Ingleby looked at Leger
with a little bitter smile.

"Well," he said, "we have made our protest, and, as
any one else would have foreseen, have found it useless.
Established order is too strong for us. I never felt of
quite so little account as I do to-night."

Leger nodded sympathetically. "That," he said, "isn't,
aiter all, of any particular consequence — and I scarcely

BROKEN IDOLS 825

think it was quite our fault. Why didn't Sewell send over
to Westerhouse?"

"I don't know," said Ingleby. "It doesn't matter now."

"Have you asked yourself how the trooper found his way
across the range?"

Ingleby turned round on him suddenly. "What do you
mean by that?"

"If you can't find an answer, I think you should ask
Sewell. It seems to me you are entitled to know."

Ingleby met his eyes for a moment, and then the blood
rushed to his face as he rose. He said nothing, but he
saw Sewell leave the fire, and, turning abruptly, he moved
on behind him up the little trail to the bakery, though he
made no effort to overtake him. It was very dark beneath
the pines, and he felt that he must see the man he had
believed in. It seemed a very long while before he reached
the bakery and, going in quietly, saw Hetty regarding
Sewell with a flash of scornful anger in her eyes.

"Oh," she said, "it's perfectly plain to me! The girl
tricked you. I knew she would."

Then she started as she saw Ingleby in the doorway,
though the flush in her cheeks grew deeper and the little
vindictive glow in her eves plainer still.

"You heard me, Walter? Well, he knows she did.
Look at him," she said.

"If you will go away for about five minutes, Hetty,
I shall be much obliged to you," said Ingleby quietly. "Mr.
SSewell has something to say to me."

Hetty swung round and swept out of the room,, and,
when the door closed behind her, Sewell sat down at the
table, and Ingleby stood in front of him. His face was
grim, and his lips were tightly set.

"Well?" he said at length.

Sewell made a little gesture. "I can't admit that Hetty
was quite correct in one respect," he said. "It was my mad
impulsiveness misled me."

326 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

"I want to be quite clear," said Ingleby in a low, even
voice. "You told Miss Coulthurst the way to the Wester-
house Gully?"

"I did. If I were not sure that you knew it already, I
would never have admitted it to you."

A little grey patch showed in Ingleby's cheek, and the
pain in his face was unmistakable, while Sewell clenched
one hand on the table as he looked at him.

"Walter," he said, "what is Miss Coulthurst to you?"

"I don't know," said Ingleby, with a very bitter laugh.
"I am not sure that she is anything whatever to me. I,
however, asked her to marry me not so very long ago, and
she led me to believe that when circumstances were more
propitious she might do so."

Sewell seemed to gasp, and his hand closed more tightly
on the table ; but he said nothing, and Ingleby spoke again.

"I would," he said, "have believed in you, in spite of
everything — but there is nothing to be gained by reproach-
ing you. Hetty was right, as usual, and you never belonged
to us, you know. There is, however, something to be done,
since it seems to me that it would be better to keep out of
the affair the girl who was apparently willing to look with
favour on both of us. You must be out of the valley before
daylight to-morrow."

Sewell stood up slowly and took a carefully folded packet
from his pocket. "I will be gone in half an hour," he said.
"Take care of these. They are the leaves that were under
the bandage on Probyn's body, and may go a little way
towards clearing Tomlinson. I will not offer to shake hands
with you, Walter ; but I would like you to believe that I was
sincere enough when I came into the valley. If it is any
consolation to you, my punishment will be heavy. My name
will be a byword after what I have done, and the work I
once believed in must be left to clean-handed men."

Ingleby took the packet. "I could have forgiven you
for stealing Miss Coulthurst's favour from me — since I

BROKEN IDOLS 327

scarcely think it was ever mine — but, just now, at least, I
can't forgive the rest," he said.

Sewell made no answer, and when he went out Ingleby
sat down limply at the table and, with his chin in his hand,
gazed at the fire. For the time even his physical strength
seemed to have gone out of him. All his faith had been
given one man and one woman, and now it was clear that
both had betrayed him, and through him the miners who
had placed their confidence in him. He did not know how
long he sat there, but he started suddenly as he felt a gentle
touch on his shoulder and saw Hetty standing beside him.

"I am so sorry, Walter. Is it very hard?" she said.

Ingleby took her hand and held it.

"I believe you are sorry," he said. "After all, old friends
are best. I have been a colossal idiot, Hetty, and it does
hurt a little to have the recognition of a fact of that kind
suddenly forced on one. Still, I must go back to the boys
now. There are several little points that must be decided
before to-morrow."

XXXII

HIS APPOINTED STATION

A FAINT light was creeping across the snow when Ing-
leby rose from his bed of cedar twigs, behind the
log, and stood up shivering. It was very cold, and most
of his companions were still sleeping, though there were
more of them than there had been the night before. During
the darkness a handful of strangers had come limping in,
and one of them had told him a somewhat astonishing
story about Trooper Probyn. He could grasp the sig-
nificance of it, but that was all, for though the rapid was
partly ice-bound now, one white sluice of water still frothed
about the tree, and the sound it made seemed to keep his
thoughts from crystallizing. He was, however, glad of the
distraction.

A man who flung down an armful of fuel stopped and
shook two or three of his comrades, who got up and
stretched themselves before they set about preparing their
morning meal. The pines had grown sharper in outline by
the time it was finished, and the snow beneath them had
changed in hue and was now a flat, lifeless white; and,
though most of the men had risen, the stillness was more
impressive than ever. TDgleby had grown accustomed to the
roar of the river and could have heard the slightest sound
through its pulsations; but there was nothing for him to
hear beyond the sharp crackle of the fire and the restless
movements of one or two of his companions. The rest were
expectantly watching the man upon the log; but he stood
Motionless, with his face turned steadfastly down the valley.

328

v

HIS APPOINTED STATION 329

Ingleby, however, felt the tension less than he might
have done under different circumstances. The game was
up, and he had no doubt that the law he had defied would
crush him for his contumacy; but that, after all, seemed
of no great moment then. His faith was shattered, his
hopes were gone, and it only remained for him to exculpate
his comrades as far as he could and face his downfall be-
fittingly. He took out his pipe and lighted it, but the
tobacco seemed tasteless, and he let it go out again, and
sat listening until the man upon the log raised a warn-
ing hand, and a faint tramp of feet came out of the silence.
There was a rhythm in it, and he knew that Slavin had
come in with the troopers from Westerhouse. The men
also heard it, and Ingleby stood up as they glanced at him.

"I'm afraid you have gained very little by listening to
Sewell or me, boys, but it might save confusion if you still
leave me to do what I can for you," he said. "The police
will be here in two or three minutes, and somebody must
speak to them."

There was a little murmur from the men, which sug-
gested sympathy with and confidence in him. Then one
of them, who was an American, waved his hand.

"Mr. Ingleby will go right ahead, and he'll find us be-
hind him whatever he does," he said. "It isn't his fault
this thing didn't quite pan out as we had figured. He's
here just where he's wanted, to see it out with us, and, any-
way, it's a big, cold bluff he and the rest of us — a handful
of placer miners of no account — have put up on the British
Empire. We're beat, but the man who wants anything
has got to show he means to have it, and they'll listen to
the others because we shut our fist."

Again there was a murmur, harsh but expressive, and
the man upon the log looked down.

"They're taking front among the firs," he said. "There's
a stranger, who must be Slavin, with them. I guess they'll
be wanting you."

330 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

He sprang down, and Ingleby climbed up on the log.
There was a suggestive jingle and clatter among the trees,
where dusty shapes flitted in the shadows; but two men
were moving forward across the open strip of snow where
the light was clearer, and Ingleby recognized one of them
as Coulthurst. The other was a stranger who wore a some-
what ragged fur-coat over his uniform. They stopped near
the barricade, and Coulthurst looked at Ingleby. The latter
stood erect and very still, with the smoke of the fire rising
in a pale blue column behind him.

"I presume you are there to speak for your comrades?"
said the major.

"Your surmise is quite correct," said Ingleby.

Coulthurst turned towards his companion. "This is
Captain Slavin, in charge of the police detachment at
Western ouse. He has come in with enough of his men to
make any attempt to oppose him likely to result in dis-
aster to yourselves. Captain Esmond being quite incapable
of duty, this affair is in his hands."

Ingleby raised his shapeless hat, and wondered if this
had been intended as a hint that he had no longer Es-
mond's rancour to fear; but the police officer, who looked
at him sharply, made no sign of noticing the salute.

"Well," he said, "what does Captain Slavin want?"

"In the first place, the unconditional surrender of Sewell,
Leger, and yourself."

"That can be counted on, so far as Leger and I are con-
cerned. Sewell is no longer in the valley. What comes
next?"

"The dispersing of the men you have with you."

"Which implies the arrest of Tomlinson?" asked Ingleby.

"It does, naturally."

"Well," said Ingleby, "we have heard your demands,
and now we would like to know what you have to offer."

"That," said Coulthurst, "is simply answered. Nothing
whatever. I may, however, say that, as usual in an affair

HIS APPOINTED STATION 331

of the kind, proceedings will only be taken against the
recognized leaders — yourself, Sewell, and Leger — and that
Captain Slavin intends to hold an inquiry on the spot into
the death of Trooper Probyn."

Slavin, at whom he glanced, made a little gesture of
concurrence.

"Major Coulthurst is correct," he said. "You have,
however, to understand that the inquiry is in no way a
concession. I have, as it happens, some information bear-
ing on the case which has not come into Captain Esmond's
possession. That is all. Now, what are you going to do ?"

Ingleby spent little time in consideration. The attitude
of the two officers was just what he had expected it would be.
They could make no concession ; but Coulthurst had never-
theless conveyed the impression that they would by no
means proceed to extremities.

"In ten minutes Leger and I will give ourselves up, and
you will not find a man behind the tree," he said. "That
is, on condition that you wait with your men among the
firs yonder until the time is up."

Slavin made a sign of comprehension, and when he
moved back with Coulthurst, Ingleby turned to the miners.

"It's all fixed now, boys," he said. "Leger and I de-
cided last night to give ourselves up. You couldn't have
prevented us, and all we wanted for Tomlinson was a
straight inquiry on the spot. Now, I want you to slip away
quietly, and hang your rifles up where you keep them.
You have to remember that the police don't know who held
up the outpost, and have nothing definite against anybody
but myself and Leger."

The men went reluctantly, and when the ten minutes
had expired Ingleby and Leger climbed down from the log.
Two troopers accompanied them to the outpost, where,
when Ingleby had spoken a few words to Slavin, they were
left to their reflections for several hours. Then there was
a tramp of feet outside, and a trooper led them into the

DELILAH OF. THE SNOWS

adjoining room where Coulthurst and SJavin sat. The door
was open, and the corporal and a cluster of miners stood
just outside. A carbine lay upon the table in front of
Slavin, who turned to the miners as Ingleby came in.

"I want you to understand that this is not a trial, boys,"
he said. "It's an inquiry into the death of Trooper Probyn,
and I expect the truth from you. I have seen Prospector
Tomlinson, and I'll now ask the corporal to give us his ac-
count of what happened the night Probyn disappeared."

There was a little movement among the miners, and one
or two of them glanced significantly at Ingleby. Slavin,
it seemed, had already gained their confidence, and tlioy
felt that if Tomlinson was sent down for trial it would be
because he was guilty. Then the corporal told his story
briefly, and admitted that Ingleby had differed from him
concerning the locality in which one of the shots had ap-
parently been fired. After that several of the miners nar-
rated how they had assisted to draw Probyn from the river,
and the discovery of the bullet-wound in him.

Slavin, who listened to them quietly, nodded and signed
to Ingleby. "You didn't agree with the corporal that the
shots were fired in the same place?"

"No, sir," said Ingleby. "One of them, I feel certain,
came from quite an opposite direction. The corporal was
busy at the time, or he would have recognized it."

"The men who have just spoken were correct in their
account of what Sewell did when Trooper Probyn had been
taken out of the water?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did Sewell remove anything from the body?"

"He did," and Ingleby took a little packet from his
pocket and opened it. "These leaves. They had evidently
been placed upon the wound. He said ProbjTi could not
have placed them there himself, and they were what the
Indians often used to stanch a flow of blood."

Slavin glanced at the desiccated fragments, and turned

HIS APPOINTED STATION 333

to the miners. "Have any of yon heard of the Indians
nsing a plant for that purpose?"

"I guess I have," said one. "One of them tried to fix
up a partner of mine, who'd cut himself chopping, with the
thing. It didn't seem to work on a white man."

Slavin nodded. "I believe there is such a plant," he
said. "Now, so far as we have gone, circumstances seem
to point to Probyn having been shot by a man who after-
wards tried to save him. He used a plant that only the
Indians seem to believe in. Come right in, Corporal. Do
you recognize this carbine?"

A trace of astonishment crept into the corporal's face as
he took up the weapon.

"Yes, sir," he said. "It's Probyn's. Am I quite sure?
I know the number, and that dint under the barrel. He
fell and struck it on a rock one day when I was with him."

"Well," said Slavin, who took out a little book, "that's
all I want from you. Xow, boys, this inquiry is in my
hands ; but I don't know of any reason I shouldn't read you
a little statement that was made on oath to me by a prospec-
tor who brought this carbine into Westerhouse Gully.

" 'I was working on a bench-claim back under the range
when an Indian came along,' he said. 'He had a carbine
with him. Offered to sell it me for tea and flour, as he was
lighting out of the country. This is just what he told me.
He was hired to take two troopers from Green Eiver across
the range, and was waiting for them just after sundown.
He'd heard a black bear moving round — a black bear doesn't
worry much about the noise he makes — and when something
came smashing through a thicket he loosed off at it. It was
getting kind of dark, and when he clawed into the thicket
he found he'd got the trooper, who, as the trail was steep
there, had left his horse. Did what he could to save him,
but the man died, and the Indian got scared that the folks
he pitched the tale to wouldn't believe him. That was why
he dragged the trooper under a big rock by the river and

334 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

put some stones and branches on him. Somehow the horse
got away; from him, though he fired at it. He didn't want
that horse walking round making trouble. I gave him the
flour and tea, and kept the trooper's carbine.' "

Slavin closed the book, and looked at the men. "Xow."
he said, "who would you say killed that trooper?"

"The Indian, sure!" said somebody, and there was a
murmur of concurrence from the rest.

"Well," said Slavin drily, "I believe he did. Anyway,
no proceedings will be taken against anybody in this valley.
Tell the boys to light out, Corporal."

The miners went away contented. They understood, and
appreciated, men of Slavin's kind. Then the latter turned,
and looked reflectively at Leger and Ingleby.

"It's quite a good thing you had sense enough to keep
the boys off their rifles," he said. "If there had been any
shooting, you would have found yourselves unpleasantly
fixed."

His face was quietly grave, but there was the faintest
suggestion of a twinkle in Coulthurst's eyes.

"I, at least, saw no weapons among them," he said.

"Well," said Slavin, "that simplifies the thing. Still,
you see, you can't go holding up police outposts and heav-
ing troopers about with impunity. Where's the man who
set you up to it?"

"I almost think it was the drift of circumstances rather
than Mr. Sewell that was to blame," said Leger. "Any-
way, I expect he is a considerable distance from the valley
• by this time. In fact, it's scarcely likely that you could
overtake him, and there's nothing to show which trail he
has taken."

It occurred to Ingleby that it was somewhat astonishing
that such a capable officer as Slavin appeared to be had
allowed so much time to pass before he asked the question.
That, however, was Slavin's business.

"Well," said the latter, "if I had a little more to go

HIS APPOINTED STATION 335

upon, I might make quite a serious thing out of this. As
it is, all I'm very sure about is that you and your partner
conspired to prevent the troopers getting at Tomlinson ; but
as Tomlinson didn't kill Probyn, that doesn't count for so
much, after all. Still, we have no use for you up here just
now, and you have two days in which to clear out of the
valley. Tomlinson will get his ticket, too, when he's able
to take the trail."

"That would mean the sequestration of our claims," said
Ingleby.

"Exactly. You're not compelled to go. Stay right here
if you'd sooner, and take your chances of any charge I may
be able to work up against )-ou."

Ingleby looked at Leger, who made a little sign.

"I think we'd better go," he said. "Still, while I have
no regret for anything I have done, I should like to thank
Major Coulthurst for what is, from his point of view, a
clemency we scarcely expected."

Slavin smiled somewhat drily. "You don't want to
make any mistake. The major has done what he considers
most advisable — just that, and nothing else. Now. before
you light out take a hint from me. Canada's quite a big
country, but the law of the Empire it belongs to is even a
bigger thing. You have come off pretty well this time —
but don't try it again."

Ingleby made Coulthurst a little grave inclination. "In
spite of Captain Slavin's explanation, I feel we owe you a
good deal, sir," he said. "Still, I think he's right in one
respect. We attempted too big a thing. Henceforward
we'll go to work, little by little, in a different way. We
have taken the wrong one, but the hope that led us into it
is just as strong as ever."

Coulthurst smiled a little. '

"Long before it's realized you and I will be dead. If I
ever come across you again under different circumstances
it will be a pleasure," he said.

DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

Ingleby turned and went out, talcing Leger with him,
but he left the latter among the pines and swung into the
trail that led past the Gold Commissioner's dwelling. He
did not know whether he wished to see Grace or not, but, as
it happened, she came out on the veranda as he passed
and stopped him with a little sign.

"You are going away, Walter?" she asked.

"Yes," said Ingleby. "In all probability I shall never
come back."

The girl's cheeks were flushed, and there was a curious
strained look in her eyes.

"You seem," she said, "quite willing to go."

Ingleby looked at her gravely. "It hurts me less than
I expected it would have done. Still, even if I had been
permitted, why should I wish to stay? I am poor again,
and it is very likely shall always be so. There are barriers
between you and me which can never be got over."

"You didn't believe that once."

"No," said Ingleby. "Still, I am wiser now, and what
I may have to suffer is no more than my desert for believing
that any man is warranted in trying to thrust himself above
the station he was meant to occupy. That, however, isn't,
after all, very much to the purpose."

"I suppose," and there was a tremor in the girl's voice,
"you blame me for all that has happened ?"

Ingleby 's eyes were still fixed upon her with disconcerting
steadiness. "It is not my part to reproach you, but I know
what you did. You have wrecked the life of my best friend,
and turned into a traitor a man whose work and word*
brought hope to thousands. Sewell will never lift his head
again."

He spoke slowly, and a trifle hoarsely, but there was a
hardness and resolution in his voice which struck a chill
through the girl.

"What did he tell you, Walter?" she said.

"Very little. In fact, only that he had told you the way

HIS APPOINTED STATION 337

to Westerhouse; but that was quite enough. I do not know
whether you told him that you loved hirn or not ; but it is
quite plain to me that you made him think so. Men of his
kind do not betray those who believe in them without a
reason."

"Walter," said the girl, very softly, "I wonder if — you —
ever really loved me?"

Ingleby winced, but there was still no wavering in his
eyes. "I do not know," he said. "You are the most
beautiful woman I ever met, and I believed I did. Most
likely your beauty and all that you stood for dazzled me,
and I lost my head. It may have been that — I do not
know — for if I had really loved you I should, perhaps, have
forgiven you everything."

"And that is too much for 3rou?"

Ingleby stood silent a moment. "If you had loved me,
you would never have betrayed me. I am afraid it is."

Grace looked at him steadily, with the colour in her
cheeks, and her voice was a little tremulous.

"Perhaps I wouldn't — like you, I do not know." Then
she held out her hand. "Don't think too hardly of me.
Good-bye, Walter."

Ingleby touched her fingers, for he dared not trust him-
self further, and swinging his shapeless hat off abruptly
turned away, while Grace stood very still until the shadows
of the pines closed about him. That was the last she ever
.saw of him.

It was half an hour later when he walked quietly into
the bakery, and came upon Hetty getting her few belong-
ings together.

"I have come back — to the people and the place I belong
to. You will not turn me out?" he said.

Hetty's eyes shone softly. "We have been waiting for
you, Walter — we knew you would come. Still, I'm not sure
you can ever get quite back to where you were before."

Ingleby saw her meaning, for he remembered the locket;

338 DELILAH OF THE SNOWS

and it seemed that Hetty knew what he was thinking, far
a little colour crept into her face.

"Well," he said, "I will be patient, and try very hard."

Then he heard footsteps, and, going out, met Leger at
the door. The latter turned and came down the trail with
him."

"We are taking the trail to-morrow. Are you coming
with us?" he said.

"Of course!" said Ingleby, looking at him in blank
astonishment.

"In that case there is something to be said — and it is
difficult, but Hetty is my sister, after all. Do you know
who gave her that locket?"

"I did," said Ingleby, "a long while ago, but I never
fancied that she had kept it. Tom, I do not know what
your sister thinks of me, but she can't think more hardly
of me than I do. Still, there may be one or two other
colossal idiots of my description."

"It's quite likely," said Leger drily. "That, however,
isn't very much to the point, is it?"

Ingleby stood silent a moment. "Tom," he said, "as
you found out, it's difficult — and I don't understand the
thing myself. Perhaps Miss Coulthurst dazzled me, and
I've been off my balance ever since I came into this valley,
but I know now that if I ever marry anybody it will be
Hetty. That's a very indifferent compliment to your sister.
She will probably be a very long while forgiving me, but I
may, perhaps, at last persuade her to believe in me again.
Now, are you going to turn me away ?"

"No," said Leger. "After that I fancy we can face to-
gether what comes."

It was early next morning when they left the valley with
an escort of twenty miners to help them across the divide,
and Hetty stood by Ingleby's side when they turned for a
moment to look back from among the climbing pines.

HIS APPOINTED STATION 339

Then, as they turned again, Ingleby met the girl's clear
eyes.

"It may be a long while, Hetty, but I think I shall get
quite back, after all," he said. "It was in ever wanting
to go away that I was horribly wrong."

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